The Lost Wolf
by maryhead
Summary: She was an outcast. A soldier, lost in the pain of burning wounds and rejection. But there is hope for everyone. And Sirius Black was hers. FIRST FANFIC.
1. A Wolf At The Door

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**Hi everybody! This is my first fanfic centered around Cassandra, a teenager member of the British Army who doesn't remember much of her past. However, she will find the answers to all her questions about the first five years of her life when she'll meet a certain big black stray dog..**

**I won't mention anything too specific about the structure of the British Army and its missions since I am not English and I don't want to cause problems with mistakes on delicate subjects. I will mention a war in Eastern Europe, consider it a product of my imagination. :)**

**I don't think there is need to say that this is an AU story, there will be no slash and the pairing will be canon. **

**It is rated T for minor ****swearing and violence.**

**As I said before, I am not English, so I would be glad if you could tell me about any grammar mistake you find in the story. **

**Hope you enjoy it!**

**PS: of course I don't own anything apart from my little Cassie. **

_Rain. _

_Blood. _

_Screams. _

_Chaos._

_A little girl wanders through the ruins of a once cheerful town. Bodies lie on the ground with their limbs bent in unnatural positions, jets of light break the grey monotonous sky of mid April, illuminating the empty houses in green and red. The few people still alive are fighting or running away from those scary hoodied figures. Nobody notices the girl, nobody stops to pick her up and bring her somewhere safe. She is crying, screaming for her dad, searching him everywhere. She only wants to say she is sorry for leaving the pub on her own. He had warned her not to walk all alone in the streets, no matter how smart she was, no matter how safe the town could seem. _

_-We are in the middle of a war, sweetheart. We have to stay united._

_Why didn't she obey to her dad? He was a wise boy, the Professors always said that. Why didn't she simply sit in the pub and eat her piece of cake? _

_It doesn't matter anymore. She is scared, terrified. The ground is red, the blood runs in small rivulets towards the castle. _

_Where is dad? _

_ For the first time in three years, the girl feels like the five-year-old girl she actually is. Her smart brain stops functioning. She stumbles on a body and falls into a puddle of mud and blood. She rises in a sitting position, crying hard._

_Where is dad?_

_She turns and looks at the body behind her. Bad move. Aunt Mary's eyes are empty and dull, their warm brown colour is slowly fading to be replaced by a plain grey. They are watching her with a blank expression, but the child can see the accusation in her dead Aunt's face. Why did you leave us? Why did you abandon your dad?_

_Where is dad?_

_Tears start falling on the already wet ground, and suddenly, a heart-shattering scream erupts from the little girl's mouth._

_WHERE IS DAD?_

Cassandra woke up with a gasp, cold sweat soaking the bandages which covered her body. Breathing hard and trying not to convey her distress to her comrades in arms, the seventeen-year-old girl looked around. Fortunately, nobody had noticed anything strange in her sleep. _Well, nobody would care, anyway_, she thought with a sigh. With a grunt she sat upright, rubbing her scarred face with her hands. Since the accident in the base camp she had kept dreaming that damn nightmare. Probably a psycologist would have said that it was a simple representation of her sense of weakness towards the horrors of the war. But Cassandra wasn't a weak person, and certainly didn't feel intimidated by a bunch of bombs and tunks. Hell, she had been fighting non-stop since she was fifteen! What really freaked her out about that nightmare wasn't its possible meanings but the fact that it felt _real. _

_Maybe it's a memory_, a little voice in the back of her head murmured. _Maybe you are finally starting to remember what happened to you. _

Lost in her thoughts, Cassandra wore her headphones, hoping that the plane would land soon. She was tired of the Army, she was tired of the war, and she was definetely tired of the uniform she was wearing. A small smile graced her lips when she thought about the crowded streets of London, her city, her home. She was looking forward to wearing one of her long gypsy skirt and going shopping in the small markets hidden in the city. However, the smile quikly turned into a frown when she remembered the short letter Colonel Wilkins sent her just a week before.

_Daughter,_

_Your behaviour in the base camp will not be tolerate. I require you to come to my office as soon as the plane lands so that I will be able to expose you the consequences of your actions._

Daughter. Colonel Wilkins kept addressing Cassandra as his daughter, even if they had not even a gene in common. He adopted her when she was five, probably pushed by his now ex wife. He never behaved like a proper father either, making it clear from the start that Cassandra was not allowed to call him "dad", "daddy" or "father" . _Colonel would do_, he said at the time. However, according some unknown rule Cassandra never understood, Colonel Wilkins was allowed to call her "daughter", no matter how the word made her feel bile rising in her throat. _I am not your daughter, you lurid old bastard!,_ Cassandra screamed in her mind, suddenly remembering the deep calm voice of her hypothetical dad in the nightmare.

_We have to stay united_

And alas they didn't. Cassandra was alone in a hostile world, just like the little girl in the nightmare. Completely alone to face the anger of Colonel Wilkins. Why was he angry, anyway? She had been strong and brave for three long years, doing as she was told, fighting and healing people at the same time in a hellhole lost in Eastern Europe, not complaining when there wasn't food or water for everybody, not crying when her colleagues in the hospital of the camp where killed in front of her by a group of rebels, not letting a sound escaping her mouth when that wolf tore her right leg off. The highly respected Colonel should have been proud of her!

_Get up  
Get the gunge  
Get the eggs  
Get the flan in the face  
The flan in the face  
The flan in the face  
Dance you fucker  
Dance you fucker  
Don't you dare  
Don't you dare  
Don't you  
Flan in the face  
Take it with the love it's given_

The plane finally landed, and Cassandra reluctantly removed the headphones from her ears. _Yes_, she thought, _I will take everything with the love it's given, even if there's no love in that man._ Sighing deeply, and ignoring the sharp pain which went through her ribs, the girl rose from her seat and prepared herself to face the anger of her foster father. Grabbing her bag she limped outside the plane in the airport. Everything was so bright and tidy, even if it was eleven o'clock in the morning and the number of people in the building was immense. Cassandra sat down for a while, observing the life in the airport with a strange sense of dizziness. She wasn't used to life anymore, not the cheerful one, anyway. Suddenly, the world started spinning, and she found herself lost in her subconscious.

_A tiny girl is staring wide eyed at the scene in front of her: hundreds of teenagers gathered in a huge room, happily chattering and eating their meals. They are all gathered around four long wooden tables, each of them covered in what seems to be extremely delicious food. It is not this, however, that catches the toddler attention, but the ceiling: its normal wooden structure seems to have been removed, as the girl is staring at a beautiful dark blue sky decorated with lots of shining stars. _

_"What do you think, Cassie? Do you like the Great Hall?"_

_Cassie?_

_Cassie?_

CASSANDRA WILKINS!

Cassandra shook out of her reverie with a small yelp, scowling when she discovered who was the responsible of the desapearance of that beautiful ceiling. Mr. White, Capitain Wilkins' personal driver, was standing in front of her, staring at her like she was a sort of wild animal. Noticing that the girl wasn't lost in dreamland anymore, the old man nervously cleared his troath.

"We should better go now, Miss Cassandra. Your father doesn't like delays"

"He is NOT my father. And if you actually think that I could forget that man's obsession with timing, then, my dear, you are dumber than I thought".

Cassandra immediately regretted the harsh tone she had used with Mr. White. After all, he was never rude with her, differently from most of the Colonel's butlers and maids. However, she was really tired, her wounds hurt terribly and she still felt a bit dizzy, so her behaviour was partly justified. Moreover, she didn't like Mir White. He was far too similar to a mouse for his own good, and Cassandra didn't like mice. At all.

After the teenager's outburst, the strange couple drove silently to the Colonel's office, which was in the heart of the city. In the car, Cassandra couldn't think about the meeting, since she was too busy meditating on that sort of vision about the strange ceiling. It had felt so real, just like the nightmare which haunted her sleep. Could it be a memory? After all, the voice she had heard at the end of the vision was the same of the nightmare, and she was pretty sure that the nightmare wasn't just a trick of her brain. Maybe that "Great Hall", as the voice called it, was the cantine of the school his dad went to. She had always known that her dad was very young when she was born, even though she couldn't even remember his face, so the part of the canteen made sense. _What about the ceiling? Things like that do not exist, not even the most advanced military technology could create such a realistic effect. _That was certainly a point. If there was one thing in which Cassandra was an expert, that was technology, and she was absolutely certain that nobody was working on fucking-awsome-sky-like-ceilings. Deciding that she was definetely too tired to dig into her poor brain for answers, the girl finally got out of the car and limped into the austere building her foster father worked in.

Although a normal seventeen-year-old girl would have been a bit scared about facing an angry Colonel, Cassandra wasn't a normal girl, and she wasn't scared the least. First of all, Colonel Wilkins was too short to intimidate anyone. In fact, he barely reached Cassandra's shoulders, and she was 5'9. Moreover, he was always perfectly shaved, tanned and had the bad habit to wear too much cologne. In other words, he was too concerned about his appearance to try being scary. Colonel Wilkins, was, however, powerful and respected, and could easily turn Cassandra's life into a living hell. Actually, he already did so when he discovered that his "daughter" was a sort of child prodigy and would be able to attend University at the age of twelve. The news, who would have made any other parent proud, infuriated the man, probably envying the girl's skills. He therefore decided that, since Cassandra was such a prodigy, she could easily join the British Army as a doctor. Nobody dared to act against the Colonel's will, and there she was, a seventeen-year-old survivor waiting to hear the "consequences of her actions".

She sat patiently outside Colonel Wilkins' office, trying to ignore the remains of her right leg, not very happy to be confined in the prosthesis. After half an hour, a blond secretary let her in, and the meeting begun.

"Daughter. You have finally decided to honour me with your presence"

"I am happy to see you too, Colonel. How was the weather in London these days? I suppose it was quite sunny, considering you are as tanned as ever". Cassandra smirked when the Colonel's face assumed a dark shade of red and his eyes narrowed in an attempt to appear dangerous. _Pathetic. _

"I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour anymore. I hoped that a few years in the Army could beat some sense into your thick head... But looking at you it clearly appears that you got worse"

Suddenly, the reason for the meeting dawned on Cassandra, and she couldn't help but thank silently the wolf which attacked her that night two months before.

"... You are angry with me because in this condition Colonel Anderson's son will never agree to marry me", She whispered in awe. She wouldn't have to marry that good for nothing, poor excuse of a boy!

"And you, on the other hand, seem far too pleased with this situation! What were you thinking?! The only thing that could convince that man to marry you was your body, and you ruined it! What am I going to do with you now?! You are completely useless!"

This time it was Cassandra's turn to become red in anger. _Useless?!_ How dared he? She was one of the most respected doctors in the base camp, not only for her deep medical knowledge, but also because she had been trained to be a Medical Support Officer too. Therefore, despite usually being too busy in the hospital, she was often involved in the coordination of medical units operating in the battlefield. And she was only seventeen!

" I... I don't understand" She finally managed to say, mentally cursing herself for showing the confusion in her head. The Colonel rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by her thickness.

"You are useless _to me_. The only advantage of having a daughter was that I could have used you to create important political alliances by marrying the son of an influent family... I thought I made myself clear when I told you that everything between you and Mr. Anderson had been settled! You had to do one thing, ONE : keep your body in decent conditions in order not to repulse the boy. And look at what you've done!"

Cassandra was appalled. What was she, a piece of meat to throw at the strongest beast in the forest? Suddenly, she felt terribly empty, and dirty. A part of her mind wanted to shout at the man in front of her and hurt him with all the force was left in her weak body. Was it worth it, though? Was he so important to her that she couldn't just ignore his words? _He is supposed to be your father. He is supposed to love you despite everything. _Love. Yeah. She knew only a person who could have loved her, and she had lost him long before.

Seeing that the girl was not going to say anything, the Colonel finally illustrated the consequences he had talked about in the letter.

" I don't know what to do with you. I fed you, dressed you, gave you a place to sleep! I even let you get your stupid degree! I never interfered with your life! The only two things I ordered you were to join the Army and marry Mr Anderson. You have ruined EVERYTHING! Now I won't be able to look Colonel Anderson in the eye, and you KNOW how much he is important for my career. I AM TIRED OF YOU! I AM TIRED OF GIVING YOU EVERYTHING WITHOUT RECEIVING ANYTHING BACK". Colonel Wilkins stopped speaking for a few seconds, trying to regain his breath.

" That's it. I'm done. From now on you'll no longer be Cassandra Wilkins. Choose the surname you prefer, I don't care. Of course, this means that you are not welcome in my house anymore. As a last sign of kindness I asked Mr. White to find you an accomodation. Do not expect me to lend you money: you have your salary, use it. These documents state the fact that you have been disowned and are not to be considered my daughter anymore. Since you are currently employed and you have completed your studies you will be considered as an emancipated minor. You only have to sign these documents and choose your new surname. When you have finished, give everything to Mr White. Dismissed"

It took a few minutes before the worlds finally sunk in. It was all so... surreal. She had always dreamt to be free to leave that awful man, that was not a secret. He was the reason why she had been forced into joining the Army. He was the reason why she had to witness people killing and getting killed. He was the reason she had to kill in order to survive. This, however, didn't prevent Cassandra to be almost overwhelmed by a sense of deep sadness. She was being adandoned, thrown away like a broken doll. No, she was not being abandoned: she was being erased. For the second time in her life she had to start everything from scratch, alone. For the first time in years, tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

_Dad._

_Dad..._

_Dad, I'm so sorry._

_Dad._

_DAD._

_Please... help me._

She did repeat this mantra in her head over and over again, not noticing when her battered limbs slowly led her outside the office, not noticing when she got on the car and let Mr White lead her to her new accomodation.

She did not even notice when her hand automatically wrote down her new surname.

_Lupin._

_Cassandra Lupin._


	2. In Limbo

**Author's note:**

**I would like to thank RMoors and Lazy-Girl for their very nice reviews. It was a great encouragement to keep writing this story! **

**I know that Cassandra is technically too young to have been working in the Army for three years. I thought about changing her age, but I fear this would affect the story too much. However, I may have found a different solution to this problem, which you'll find out in later chapters. :)**

**Still talking about the timeline... As you may have guessed from the summary, this story is set during Harry's third year at Hogwarst. However, in this story Harry was born in 1977, so the dates will be a bit different from canon. **

**As far as the squib bit is concerned... There is a debate going on in the magical world, but, as always, Dumbledore will come up with an interesting theory!**

**I also wanted to add a small note about the title of the previous chapter: A Wolf At the Door is actually the title of a Radiohead song, whose lyrics are partially quoted in the chapter too. Even this chapter is named after a Rh song, although I don't know if I will keep this "tradition" in the future. **

**What else can I say? I hope you enjoy this chapter and keep reviewing! **

Three days passed after the meeting with the Colonel. Three days, and Cassandra was still trying to get rid of that terrible sadness. _You should be happy, _she kept repeating to herself, _you'll never see that man again. You should be happy. BE HAPPY, FOR GOD'S SAKE!_

Despite her efforts, however, she couldn't help but replaying the Colonel's words over and over again.

Useless.

After 72 hours her mind seemed to have accepted that word, and now Cassandra found it hard not to agree with Colonel Wilkins. _How can you deny it? Look at yourself: you are a monster. You may be a good doctor, but who would accept to be cured by a seventeen-year-old girl full of scars and without a leg? _

_I may still work with the Army. In a battelfield nobody cares about your physical appearance._

_You. Miss. A. LEG. How can you possibly consider the idea of fighting if you can't even walk without a crutch?_

It was true, of course. It didn't matter how hard Cassandra tried, her body simply refused to adapt to the prothesis. Being a doctor she knew that the rehabilitating process would be long and painful, but there was a small detail which made the pain almost unbearable: after two long months the wound still had to scar completely. Actually, there wasn't a single cut on Cassandra's body which could be considered completely healed, a really strange fact considering the easyness with which she usually recovered from bruises and lacerations. The doctors who cured her supposed that her organism had been put under an excessive stress which affected the healing process, but Cassandra thought otherwise. In fact, she firmly believed that this strange phenomenon had something to do with the wolf which attacked her. However, After testing her for any kind of infection commonly trasmitted via animal bites, her colleagues labelled her idea as absurd.

_Still, _she thought, _that was definetely not a normal wolf. _First of all, that creature was way too big to be considered a common canine: the teenager clearly remembered that it barely fit in the large Emergency Room of the base camp. Secondly, that animal easily destroyed heavy and resistsant medical devices, what kind of wolf could do a thing like that?

Cassandra sighed, tiredly rubbing her face with her hands. It didn't matter what kind of creature attacked her: her career was ruined. She had already been discharged, and her superior made it clear that the Army wouldn't need her services in the near future. Of course, after three years of fighting, Cassandra was initially happy to get away from that hellhole. Now, however, she fully understood the implications of her condition.

_You are useless. _

Yes, she was. Useless and flat broke, since she spent all her savings to buy the prothesis and pay the rent of the flat she now lived in. _Bloody fantastic._

With these thoughts costantly crossing her mind, Cassandra's sadness wasn't surprising at all. However, she was still a soldier, and good soldiers don't give up a fight without even starting it. As a consequence, after three days of brooding Cassandra got up from the dusty floor of her "home" and started living her new life.

The first thing she noticed looking around was that the place Mr. White had found was simply miserable: it had two rooms, one of which was the bathroom, while the other was a sort of kitchen-bedroom-living room completely unfurnished apart from an old fridge and a camp stove.

In a corner lied the things Mr. White had retrieved from the Colonel's house: lots of books, some clothes and three or four CDs. Cassandra limped towards her belongings and picked up a plain gray track suit and a large light blue T-shirt.

"Sorry dear skirt, you'll have to wait until I'm a bit more cheerful", she said to her colorful garment, just before bursting into an almost hysterical laugh.

_I am talking to a skirt! Hell, maybe I am really mad after all.. _Still chuckling softly, the girl made her way towards the bathroom, only to stop and stare open-mouthed at the disgusting scene in front of her.

"Ok. No panic, Cassie. It is only a bit of dust and... mud. Yes. It must be mud. Oh, there are also spiders. And flies... and... cockroaches..." . Deciding that a shower could wait, Cassandra opted to fulfill the other goals of her mental schedule: eat and, obviously, get something to clean that pig pen.

Timed passed quickly after those first dramatic three days. Ignoring her aching limbs and weak heart, Cassandra managed to clean that pathetic excuse for a house. She had enough money to buy a camp bed and a small bookshelf, as well as an old broken TV which she easily fixed. After a week the place was almost livable, although she still had to eat on the floor. All in all, life wasn't as bad as she expected: she had food, water, medicines and a place to sleep. She had even found a job in a small hardware store at the end of the street!

After two weeks of procrastinating, Cassandra made up her mind and bought a mirror. It was old and battered, but big enough to let her see her entire figure. She carefully removed her bandages and there she was, completely naked facing the monster.

_I really look like a broken doll_, she thought with a sigh. Cassandra had never been a vain person, but, before the accident, nobody could have denied her beauty. She was tall, thin but not skinny, with a naturally tanned skin and long, wavy, dark blond hair. Her face was round and a sweet smile always graced her soft lips. Her eyes, however, where the physical feature that made every male human being look at her with adoration: they were big and bright, their ice-green colour emphasized by long, dark lashes.

Now, however, Cassandra's skin was pale and dull. Long, dark cuts covered every inch of her body, almost hiding the tattoos she had on her right shoulder and on her back. Only the thigh was left of her right leg, now trapped in a black cumbersome prosthesis. A long scar travelled from her sternum to the end of her ribcage, screaming to the world _Hey! I underwent a open-heart surgery! ._ Her face was disfigured by two deep scars which went from her left ear to the corner of her mouth, making her sweet smile look more like a grimace. Her eyes were red rimmed from the lack of sleep, but still held the brightness and life they had before the accident.

After a few minutes spent contemplating her new self, Cassandra smiled, then grinned, then started laughing like a maniac. She laughed, laughed, laughed. She laughed at the beautiful girl she once was. She laughed at the Colonel. She laughed at the wolf which had tried to eat her alive. She laughed until her lungs started begging for air, she laughed until her brain stopped functioning.

_"Dad?"_

_"Yes, Cassie?"_

_"Why are you wearing a sweater? It's so hot outside!"_

_"It's not that hot, sweetheart... Actually I am a bit cold"_

_"But... Paddy is always cold and look! He doesn't even have a shirt on!"_

_"Ehr.."_

_"Are you ill, dad?"_

_"No! I mean... Look, Cassie..."_

_"... Is it because of your scars?"_

SHIT

Cassandra opened her eyes, breathing hard. _What the hell was that?!_ She thought, noticing for the first time that she was lying on the floor in front of the mirror. It had been a long time since she had that "vision" in the airport, an event which she had finally explained as a trick of her tired brain. This... thing, however, changed everything. This time her mind didn't show her strange ceilings or ruined towns. This time she only had to listen.

That deep, gentle voice, who made her feel so safe and yet haunted her in her sleep clearly belonged to her dad, there was no doubt about that anymore.

That was definitely a flashback.

She was starting to remember!

Suddenly feeling more alive than ever, Cassandra scrambled to her feet and started searching frantically for a piece of paper and a pen.

"Ok, Cassandra, think. You always dream of that sort of town, it must mean something..." Trying to recall all the horrible images that populated her dreams, the girl began to list all the peculiar elements she could find, apart from the blood and the dead bodies. Suddenly, a detail crossed her mind: before falling, her young self had turned to face a strange building, which resembled...

_A train._

With and excited yelp, Cassandra wrote down the first path to follow in order to find her real dad:

- An attack which took place in April 1977 in a town near a train station. Location: Great Britain.

Satisfied with this element, the girl went on digging into her brain in search of answers. After a while she got tired of listening only to the voices in her head and decided to turn on the TV in order to have some "company" while she worked.

She was writing about the strange ceiling of that "Great Hall" when the screen actually caught her attention.

_"...the public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately" *_

Cassandra's head shot up and the girl reached the remote to raise the volume. Black. She had never heard of a convict named Black, a curious thing considering that she had been following British news since she was seven. The reporter told that Black had been convicted for killing thirteen people in an explosion and had escaped from prison after twelve years. _Twelve years. Well, I was too young at the time of the arrest, the maids still refused to let me read the newspaper. _Before she could return to her notes, however, the reporter showed a picture of the man.

_Weird._

Something clicked inside Cassandra's mind, and she suddenly felt a bit dizzy. It was a sensation similar to the one she experienced in the airport before the flashback. Yet, nothing happened.

Not a sound. Not an image. Just the overwhelming feeling that something was wrong.

She studied closely Mr. Black's face, focusing on his expression.

How could he be so... sad? He was a mass murderer who had just been caught and condemned to spend the rest of his life in a cell. He should look angry, furious, or resigned. Why sad, though? Was he feeling bad for having killed so many people?

No.

He was sad. He was desperate. He was grieving.

Suddenly Cassandra felt a pang of pity for the man in the picture, and a thought crossed her overloaded brain.

_Why did he escape after such a long time?_

Something was wrong.

Black.

Sirius Black.

Black.

Lupin.

Lupin and Black.

Lupin, Black and... P... P...

Parrot?

Port?

Poster?

No matter how hard she tried, Cassandra couldn't remember the third surname. However, the fact that in her mind Black was associated with the surname she had chosen for herself was enough to freak her out. Why did she choose Lupin, anyway? It sounded a bit ironical, considering that the word "lupus" means "wolf" in latin.

_Maybe that is you real surname. After all, your memory is slowly coming back._

_Stupid Brain._

Another week went by, and Cassandra was too busy picking up the pieces of her shattered memory to think about the Colonel anymore. Actually, she was getting a bit frustrated. In fact, in the archives there was no record of an insurrection in a town near a train station, not to mention the detail of the strange ceiling. Moreover, apart from that awful nightmare, her brain refused to give her another piece of information about her hypothetical past, so she didn't know what to look for.

She was stuck in a limbo, but little she knew that someone was going to save her.

* That line comes from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, chapter two


	3. Street Spirit

**Author's Note:**

**First of all, I wanted to thank Naflower05 for her review. It's always nice to have a feedback, it helps me to understand how to improve this story!**

**Secondly, I wanted to point out that there will be a change in the point of view in this chapter. It is an experiment, since I originally wanted to focus mainly on Cassandra. However, I thought that, after two ****_very_**** AU chapters, maybe some magic wouldn't be bad.**

**Hope you like it and, as always, please review!**

**PS: The title of this chapter comes from Radiohead album The Bends. It is a wonderful song, one of my favourite. If you want, you can listen to it while reading this chapter.. I think it quite fits with the beginning :)**

* * *

Sirius Black had always been a brave man.

He was brave after the Sorting Ceremony, when he held the suspicious glares of his new, oh-so-Gryffindor housemates.

He was brave when, just a few hours afterwards, he had to listen to his mother's angry screeches resounding in a stunned Great Hall.

He was brave when he decided to swallow his pureblood pride and started talking with Remus Lupin, a shy half-blood bookworm of his same year.

He was brave every time he came home for the summer and had to bear any kind of torture his mother thought of.

He was brave when, after a particular hard punishment, he still managed to limp into little Reggie's room and try to talk to him about how wrong were Voldemort's "ideals".

Sirius Black remembered that a famous Muggle once said:

_"I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear." *_

That was probably true, because, at the moment, Sirius Black was utterly terrified.

He had spent twelve long years in a tiny, cold and dark cell, surrounded by Dementors. Slowly, but persistently, those awful creatures had sucked every inch of happiness Sirius' heart could contain: his friends, his school days, little Harry... All the best memories the dark-haired man had were gone long ago, while the worst ones haunted him day and night. He didn't know how to sleep anymore, his brain was far too weak to win over the pained voices of the Potters and Remus. They called him, pleaded him to help them, stay with them. Yet, he couldn't. Lily and James where dead, gone. Remus... He was dead too, probably. Killed by loneliness and by his moonlight alter ego.

There were nights - or days, he had given up trying to distinguish the two after a few weeks - when Black could hear Harry's wails too. Little Harry... he had been Sirius' rock when everything was falling apart. In that cell, however, his voice could nothing but bring more anguish and guilt into the older man's heart.

_I am innocent._

Those three words had been his mantra for twelve long years, yet he couldn't help but feeling a terrible sense of guilt lacerating his heart. He was innocent, yes. But he had killed them all anyway.

There were nights when another memory haunted him. It was a bad one, of course, but not as much as the others.

Cassandra.

A little angel with ice green eyes and dark blond locks. She was lost. People said she was dead, killed by the Death Eaters who had kidnapped her on that awful April morning. The Marauders, however, never stopped looking for her. After James went into hiding and Remus was almost forced into joining Greyback's pack for information, Sirius kept searching her in the magical world. He asked Pettigrew to help him.

_"Please, Pete. I know you are busy being Prong's Secret Keeper and all, but we can't abandon her!"_

_"Padfoot... look... Have you ever considered the idea that she could be actually d.."_

_"NO! She. Is. Alive. And alone. And frightened. She needs us to find her, Wormtail! I know you never liked her much, but for God's sake, she is a baby! Our little Maraudrette! Even if you think she's d..d-dead, please, please help me! Do that for me. Do that for Remus!"_

_"Remus is... R-Remus is a traitor, Sirius. Everybody knows that. Y-you can't ask me to help a b-bloody t-traitor"_

_"Please, Pete. I beg you. I will not rest until I find her... alive or.. or dead"._

Pettigrew accepted, of course. The bastard. He had to look for her in the Muggle world, just in case an orphanage had taken her in. Probably he never even thought about doing that.

It was a bad memory. Full of anxiety and regret. But it gave Sirius _hope_. Knowing that Pettigrew was a traitor and a liar left space for hoping that maybe, _maybe _the little angel was still there, a street spirit wandering through the towns of the United Kingdom in search of her family.

That gave hope to the battered heart of Sirius Black. That and the fact that, somewhere, Harry heart-shattering wails had stopped, and the boy was growing up happily, no dark wizard threatening him now that Voldemort was dead.

Then, on a gloomy morning-afternoon-evening of June 1990, that old bat of Minister Fudge honoured the prisoners with his presence. Black saw that pompous git standing there, in the darkness, playing nervously with the folded pages of a new copy of the Daily Prophet. Black saw the paper, and suddenly felt a strange urge to read it. He asked for the paper, politely, like any civilized human being would have done. His voice was a bit raspy, but still.

Maybe the Minister was in a good mood. Maybe the Minister was in a bad mood and wanted to get rid of the paper. The fact remains that Black got the Daily Prophet and started reading.

_MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE_

_Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual _Daily Prophet_ Grand Prize Galleon Draw._

_A delighted Ms Weasley told the _ Daily Prophet, "_We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank"._

_The Weasley family will be spending a month in egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarst, which five of the Weasley children currently attend. **_

Sirius' tired brain tried in vain to remember who Arthur Weasley was. Maybe he had met him, maybe not. It didn't matter anyway. Those stormy grey eyes, which once were as bright as silver, now scanned lazily the picture of the Weasleys. They were happily grinning at the camera, ignoring that, miles and miles away from them, a man silently cried on their faces. It wasn't fair. What did Mr. Weasley do to deserve that life? What did Mr Weasley do to deserve a wife, a job, seven wonderful children? What did Sirius do to deserve the loss of his life and family? He gave everything to help anybody who asked for some help. EVERYTHING. And that bloody rat...

...

_What the hell..._

Sirius Black froze, staring at the picture in shock. After a couple of minutes, or hours, or days, the man leaned closer and drank every detail of the small figure which could change his life forever. It was really tiny, actually. Still, it was there, and it was real: an old rat with a missing toe. Peter Pettigrew. Wormtail.

Sirius blinked once, twice, then closed his eyes, screwing up the picture in his hands. Peter Pettigrew, a traitor, a murderer, was enjoying a holiday in Egypt!

Everything was so confusing... anger, a feeling that the convict had forgotten a long time ago, built rapidly in the man's chest. He wanted to destroy everything, the wanted to catch that filthy rat and break his bones one by one...

As soon as the anger had reached its highest peak, however, that feeling was replaced by another, even more terrible emotion: fear.

_Harry._

His Harry, his rock, his godson, had never stopped being in danger. This time, however, there wasn't an Order of the Phoenix to protect him. This time, little Harry was alone facing a threat nobody was aware of.

And Sirius Black couldn't do anything.

A Dementor passed by, and haunting memories began to play with Black's mind.

_James, dead, lying on the floor._

_Lily, dead, lying on the floor._

_Harry crying in a half destroyed crib_

_Remus crying._

_Cassandra missing._

_"Please, Pete, I beg you..."_

_"Do that for me..."_

_"... Do that for Remus"_

Harry was his hope. Cassie was his hope. He had to save him, he had to find her.

Sirius Black was terrified. Yet, Sirius Black was brave, reckless, and extremely smart. And so, after only a few hours, Sirius Black became the first man who ever managed to break out of Azkaban.

He turned into Padfoot, once a huge friendly black dog, now a skinny, dirty and battered mass of fur. Padfoot easily sneaked out of the cell, since Dementors couldn't "see" animals, and ran until the sea opened in front of his eyes.

Then, Padfoot swam, ignoring the chilly temperature of the water, ignoring the salt filling his wounds, ignoring his lungs begging for air. Padfoot swam, and, finally, reached the land of the free men.

Despite the fear, despite the tiredness, the dog couldn't help but noticing that something in his mind was different. Everything was so peaceful and... quite. However, the Animagus knew that there was no time to analyze his state of mind, so Padfoot started running again, this time trying to find a path that could lead him to his godson. Unfortunately, the dog's powerful nose was completely useless: years of Dementors had erased the memory of Harry's scent, so Sirius had to rely only on his intelligence.

He thought about all the families which could have adopted his little Prongslet. Remus, of course, was "too dangerous" to gain the custody of a child. Frank and Alice Longbottom were out of the list too: shortly after Sirius's arrest, his mad cousin Bellatrix Lestrange was condemned for having tortured the young couple into insanity. That left the two people Sirius Black despised the most, apart from his mother, Voldemort and the Death Eaters: Petunia and Vernon Dursley, Lily's sister and brother-in-law. They were not a good memory, so Padfoot could clearly remember their address: Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

Although it wasn't a great lead, it was still a start.

Padfoot ran with all the strength his poor limbs had left. He forgot to eat, to drink, to sleep. Just as his body threatened to give up and collapse on the ground, however, the dark forest which surrounded the dog was replaced by a neat, well-kept park.

The Animagus stopped abruptly, breathing hard. He didn't recognize the park, but his instinct told him that he wasn't far from his destination.

Too tired to run, Padfoot padded slowly towards the nearest street he could find. It was dark, and no human soul could be seen nearby. The big black dog didn't mind: he was used to loneliness and darkness, probably a sunny day and a crowded street would have freaked him out. Slowly he felt the panic leaving his heavy heart. _Harry his here, you are here. Everything will be ok_.

As the last drop of adrenaline left his organism, however, all the sensations he had managed to forget came back full force. A sharp pain in his paws made him wince and look down: the run in the forest had lacerated the flesh, which now was swollen and covered in blood. The dog's muscles ached like hell, but it was nothing compared with the pain coming from his neglected stomach: he had never been so hungry, and, for the first time, he found himself longing for a piece of Azkaban moulded bread. However, this was not the time to go searching for food, and Padfoot slowly limped towards a neat house at the beginning of the street. _Maybe I could hide behind that fence and rest for a while_, he thought, exhaustion finally overwhelming him. _The Weasleys are still in Egypt, the rat can't harm Harry yet_. Just before laying down on the cold, soft grass, however, a thud echoed in the deserted street. Looking up, Padfoot saw the profile of a skinny boy with messy dark hair rummaging in what looked like a big trunk.

A Hogwarst trunk.

_Harry._

For the first time in twelve years, happiness blossomed in the Animagus' heart. His Harry was standing right in front of him, in the middle of the night, with nothing but a trunk and...

_Wait, what?_

Panic and anger filled the escaped convict again, and a low growl escaped his lips. What happened? What did those horrible Muggles do to his precious godson? However, he didn't have much time to think about how to kill those poor excuse of human beings, as Harry turned around and looked at him.

Even in the darkness Sirius could recognize Lily's bright green eyes, and a tight lump formed in the man's throat. He wanted to turn back into his human form and hug his godson's trembling profile. Harry, however, didn't look particularly pleased at the sight of a huge black dog watching him and stepped backwards, tripping on his own trunk. Suddenly a deafening BANG echoed in the street, and the Knight Bus almost ran over the poor teenager. Padfoot hid in the darkness, frightened by the sudden sound and the bright light of the headlights.

By the time he found the strength to look up from the fence, however, the Bus was gone, and so his little Harry.

_Stupid, stupid coward._ Padfoot cursed himself, finally collapsing on the grass. At least Harry had found some help, and now was probably heading towards one of his friends' home. Still growling lowly, the dog fell asleep, dreaming of skinny boys and blinding lights.

The next day Sirius woke up early and decided that the forest was probably the safest place for him. However, after a few hours spent hunting and enjoying the sunlight for the first time in years, Padfoot found himself imaging London, his home before Pettigrew managed to destroy his life. Ah, beautiful, bright London! Sirius had always loved its crowded streets and breathtaking views. Maybe he could go to London. After all, it was a huge city, nobody would have noticed a skinny stray dog wandering through the streets. Moreover, London was full of food, and Padfoot was starving, despite the small squirrel he had managed to catch previously in the morning.

After a couple of minutes spent contemplating the idea of abandoning Little Whinging, Padfoot made up his mind and started limping towards London. It was a pretty long way to go, so the dog had all the time to think about the events of the last few days.

He was free.

_free._

Sirius laughed a dog laugh thinking about the fact tat, if everything went according to plans, he wouldn't have to see a cell for the rest of his life. Not that he had a plan: improvisation was Sirius' favourite word. Maybe he could just kill the rat, take Harry and flew somewhere warm for the rest of his life. Maybe he could play the good godfather role and go to Dumbledore or Moony- if the latter was still alive, of course.

_Moony._

The Animagus sighed, whining softly. He should be angry with Remus - after all, the former Gryffindor did nothing to defend Sirius against the Ministry decision. However, Sirius couldn't forget that, for a really short period, the Order had suspected Remus to be the traitor, and good old Padfoot didn't say anything to prove them wrong. As a result, it was no wonder that the former Gryffindor couldn't feel anything but sympathy for his old friend. A little tear trailed down the dog cheek: he missed Moony so much. Back at Hogwarst, everybody thought that James was Sirius' best friend, which was true, of course. Padfoot and Prongs were brothers in all but blood. Remus Lupin, however, was the one who Sirius talked to when he needed help understanding his own feelings. Remus Lupin was the one Sirius went to when his mother's wrath haunted his sleep. Remus Lupin was calm and quiet, and his presence alone was able to give some relief to Sirius' haunted mind.

And now, Remus Lupin thought that Sirius was a bloody mass murderer who betrayed his own brother and tried to kill his godson in the process.

_Well, shit._

He had to fix everything. He had to find a way to gain Remus' trust again.

_An angel with ice green eyes and dark blond locks..._

Cassandra. She was the key. Padfoot felt guilt overwhelming him when thinking about that little wonderful girl, all alone in the muggle world. However, after having managed to find Harry in such a short time, Sirius's hopes to find the now young woman were considerably higher than before.

_What if you find her and she refuses to follow you? After all, she may have found a family that loves her. Maybe she is living happily as a normal muggle. What could convince her to follow an escaped convict to search for a lonely werewolf who may or may not be dead?_

_Damn._

Lost in these gloomy thoughts, Padfoot didn't immediately notice that his limbs had finally managed to reach London. It was dark again, but this time the streets weren't deserted and silent. After all, it was a beautiful summer night, there was no reason for the Londoners to stay at home and sleep. As a consequence, the city was bright and alive. The pubs were open and crowded with people. Everybody was happily chatting or dancing, unaware of the fact that an escaped convict was watching them, longing and melancholy clear in his eyes. Fortunately for Sirius, open pubs meant food, and food meant trash bins filled to the top. Padfoot dug in, ignoring the ugly smell coming from the trash bags.

_Mmmh, chicken._

The dog chewed happily, enjoying the life and sounds of his beloved city. He ate peacefully for a long time, filling his stomach with roasted chicken leftovers and rotten eggs. He even found a half-full bottle of milk which he promptly lapped up, partially sating his thirst.

Just when he was ready to fall asleep again, however, a strange music was caught by his powerful ears. It was different from the Muggle tunes he used to listen to as a teenager: it was more rhythmic and... loud. As curiosity finally won over tiredness, the black dog limped towards the street the music came from, and widened his eyes at the sight of what has happening in front of him.

Dozens of young men and women were dancing in a small dirty alley. Actually, Padfoot wasn't sure that ... thing could be called dancing. It was something between fighting, dancing and having a grand mal. It was beautiful. Boys and girls kept twisting their bodies in the strangest positions Sirius had ever saw, all under the ecstatic gaze of an even larger group of teenagers. Their rhythm was frantic, and yet they held an elegance and a coordination unknown to many magical dancers. The music, which came from a big square black object half hidden in the darkness of the alley, was almost too loud for Padfoot's sensible ears, but otherwise it was pretty enjoyable. The dog sat quietly in a corner, his tail unconsciously moving to the rhythm of the song. His eyes moved from the dancers to the young public. The majority of the teenagers were laughing, cheering, cursing, jumping up and down. Some of them, however, were just standing there, chatting and drinking and enjoying the music.

A girl was quietly sitting on the bonnet of an old car, her eyes closed and a peaceful expression on her face. She didn't seem to be a member of the group, probably she was just an observer enjoying the show from afar. Nobody seemed to notice her either, despite the fact that she was wearing strange, colorful clothes. Her scent was peculiar too: cinnamon and orange, with a touch of jasmine and honey. She smelled like home and Christmas, but also like spring and remote countries. Sirius liked that scent. It reminded him of his youth, full of hopes, dreams and family. He started limping towards that strange girl, so calm and quiet in the middle of all that confusion that she was almost ethereal, surreal. She looked like a street spirit, silently keeping an eye on that bunch of happy teenagers. Padfoot was so overwhelmed by her scent that he forgot to pay attention to the broken bottles which covered the floor. As a result, he couldn't help but yelp when a sharp glass pierced his already wounded paw. Blood started dripping from the cut limb, and the dog whimpered softly, looking around for some place to hide and try to remove the glass.

"Hey, sweetheart"

Sirius jumped at the sound of the voice. It was sweet, yet rather hoarse, maybe from lack of use. Looking up he saw that the street spirit had noticed him and now was standing in front of him, heavily leaning on a crutch. Suddenly afraid, the dog stepped backwards, yelping loudly when other glasses cut his flesh.

"No!... don't do that, dear, you'll make things worse!" The spirit exclaimed softly, slowly crouching and holding one hand towards Sirius while the other rapidly removed most of the glasses from the ground.

"Here... now the ground is clear. Come to me, dear... I won't hurt you, ok? I just want to heal that bad cut. Come on, sweetheart... good boy!"

The girl smiled in the darkness when Padfoot made up his mind and limped towards her, tentatively leaning against her hand and whimpering like a pup. Oh, God, he had missed human touch so much!

"You are a very brave dog, aren't you? The bravest dog in the world...". The girl murmured soothing words while stroking Pafoot's dirty fur and examining his wounds.

"Mmmh... My my, doggie, these paws don't look well, do they? And you are pretty thin too... Maybe we should go to a vet and see what he can do... Don't look at me like that! You'll be fine, ok? The vet will take care of you, and then you'll come home with me... I am quite lonely, you know? I really need a friend like you.."

Padfoot knew that the girl was talking to dog-Sirius and not to human-Sirius. Still, those words were balm for his soul. He came closer and closer, and then buried his head in the girl's stomach, making her almost fall backwards. She chuckled softly, making Padfoot's heart leap with joy.

"It looks like you would appreciate a friend too, Uh? Now let's find somebody who can help me take you away from this place..."

The street spirit kept talking to the dog, repeating that he was brave and strong, and that everything would be ok. Padfoot, however, didn't listen to her: he was too busy savouring her scent and drifting to sleep, dreaming of Christmas, family and spring.

* * *

* This line was said by Nelson Mandela.

** The article is a quotation from The Prisoner of Azkaban, chapter one.


	4. A Reminder

**Hi Everybody!**

**First of all, I am really sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. It took me ages to finish it!**

**Secondly, I wanted to thank Naflower05 for her lovely review of "Street Spirit"! I know that the timeline of the last chapter was a bit confused, after all it was written in Sirius' POV... In this chapter I've tried to fix things up by being a bit more precise :).**

**As usual, "A Reminder" is the title of a wonderful b-side song by Radiohead. It was released in 2001, so technically Cassandra shouldn't know the lyrics... However, I think this song suits her, so... Let's just pretend it was written in 1990 :).**

**Sooo... Enjoy this chapter and, pleeaase keep reviewing! **

* * *

Cassandra was not the kind of girl who spent 5 days per week thinking about what to wear on Saturday night, but no one could say that she was a hermit either. Actually, the girl was a true street spirit: she loved wandering through the streets of London late at night, not to get drunk and forget her miserable life, but to observe, listen, and dance.

She observed the other spirits, who managed to make London heart beat even when most of its citizen were asleep in their beds or unconscious on the ground.

She listened to the melodies and songs which echoed in the dark alleys.

She danced. Break-danced, to be precise. God knows how much the girl loved to twist, jump, fall, feeling her muscle stretch and her junctures crack slightly when the movement was too rash. She loved the rhythm and the adrenaline that spread in her organism every time the music started. Breakdance fixed her heart when she was twelve and saved her life when she was fifteen.

Now a wolf had eaten her ability to dance, but Cassandra still had eyes and ears, and London heart kept beating in the darkness. So, on a wonderful Saturday night, the young woman got dressed, put a bit of make-up on her scarred face, and limped out of her tiny apartment.

She sat on the bonnet of an old car, trying to absorb the life which surrounded her. Everything was so perfect, and for a few minutes she felt like her old self again. Soon, however, something broke the equilibrium. A whimper. A soft, almost imperceptible whimper, coming from what seemed to be the shadow of a black stray dog.

Cassandra loved animals, sometimes even more than human beings. That was the main reason she didn't immediately try to kill the wolf on that fateful night. She just couldn't even conceive the idea of harming such pure and innocent creatures. And so, Cassandra _Lupin,_ a hair-trigger soldier with a broken heart and a cold soul, melted in front of a poor lost puppy and found herself holding an unconscious dog in the middle of a dark alley.

_What the hell am I going to do now?_

The girl looked around frantically, searching for anyone who could help her carrying the canine. In fact, she knew only a veterinary who would have welcomed the animal at that time of the night, but he lived far away from that part of London, and Cassandra didn't own a car. Actually, she didn't even have enough money to hire a taxi.

"Ok, Cassie. You are a soldier. You have carried men twice your size with mines exploding all around you. Walking to the vet while holding a dog will be easier than eat a piece of cake..."

_Yeah, you wish_. Cassandra reached for her crutch, only to realize that the only way to carry the dog implied the use of both hands. _Damn._

With a grunt the girl got up from the floor, her right leg already complaining rather loudly.

"Ok. I've got you doggie. Now you'll have to be patient, all right? Well, you don't look too worried, do you?"

Cassandra kept talking to the sleeping form she held tightly in her arms, trying to ignore the pain and the fatigue. A step at a time, she walked past the first block of flats, then the second, then the third. Sometimes she had to stop and sit for a while, not only because of the prosthesis but also because of her battered heart, not used to bearing such great exertions anymore. After a while, she started feeling a hot liquid soaking her large colorful trousers.

_The wound has reopened. Shit. shitshitshit. _

The pain was almost unbearable, but that poor creature needed her. Gritting her teeth and sweating visibly, Cassandra kept limping towards the vet, praying to find him at home. _With an almost 90-year-old lad you can never be sure._

It was almost dawn when the strange couple finally reached Bill Thompson's house. By the time she reached the door, Cassandra's breath was ragged and her limbs were shaking dangerously. She dropped herself on the last step, adjusting the still asleep dog beside her. Ignoring that it was not five in the morning yet, she banged on the door with all the strength she had.

While waiting for the old man to get up, the girl leaned against the wall, looking properly at her new friend for the first time. He was skinny. No, _more _than skinny: Cassandra could have easily counted all his bones if it hadn't been for the thick, dirty and long black fur that covered his limbs. His paws were covered in curdled blood and dirt, and deep gashes covered his body. It looked like the poor lad had been running in a forest for a lot of time. The wounds, however, weren't what worried Cassandra: the real problem was the dog's ears were too hot for his own good. He had a very high fever, probably caused by an infection or an excessive stress.

After almost ten minutes of waiting, Cassandra started banging on the door again, this time with more energy.

"COME ON BILL, I KNOW YOU ARE HERE! WAKE UP YOU OLD COOT!"

No answer.

"ARE YOU DEAF?! MOVE YOUR BLOODY ARSE FROM THAT BED AND OPEN THE DOOR!"

Still no answer.

"OK, YOU LAZY GIT. IF YOU DON'T LET ME IN THIS ISTANT I'LL GO TO MR. MOLTON'S CLINIC. HE IS SO YOUNG AND SMART... PROBABLY HE WOULD DO A VERY GOOD JOB. AFTER ALL, YOU ARE ONLY A 90-YEAR-OLD PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A..."

Cassandra, however could not end her rambling speech, as a pretty angry man suddenly burst the door open, leaving the girl laying supine on the floor of the entrance hall. Bill's scowl, however, turned quickly into a worried frown when he realised who was the author of such a commotion.

".. Cassie? What are you doing here?! You look awful!"

"Seriously, man, I'm moved. We haven't seen each other for two long years and the first thing you say is that I look awful!", Cassandra huffed, slowly and shakily getting up from the floor, the unconscious dog tightly held in her arms.

"Anyway, I'm here because this poor dog needs the help of a good veterinary... I... I know I've disappeared for two years, and I know you probably don't want to have anything to do with me anymore, but..."

"Come in. It looks like you need some good tea". Before Cassandra could reply, the old man dragged the strange couple inside and made his way towards the kitchen. The girl looked around, noticing that nothing in the furniture had changed.

_Sometimes things don't change_, she thought with a sigh, while smirking slightly at the thought of the nickname she had given to Bill long before... Mr Teapot. After all those years is still suited mr. Thompson perfectly. First of all, the old man silhouette resembled that of a large teapot. Secondly, the veterinary was of the opinion that, no matter how bad things could be, there was nothing a good cup of tea couldn't solve.

"Thinking about Mr Teapot again, aren't we?"

Cassandra looked up from her steaming mug, grinning.

" Reading my mind again, aren't we?"

Bill chuckled lightly, but he soon turned serious again.

"So, dear, I think you owe me an explanation. Not that I don't like being woken up by your... Musical voice, it's just that I was sleeping rather peacefully, and your sudden appearance is... Confusing. You were the one who said you'd have been gone for good, after all".

Cassie sighed heavily, looking at the dog sleeping peacefully on the floor. Yes, she remembered her last meeting with the veterinary. It occurred just before the beginning of the girl's mission for the Army. She was terrified of going on that plane, because she knew that something bad would have happened to her. However, Colonel Wilkins had forbidden her to talk to anyone about her "new job", so she had to swallow her panic and act as everything was normal. She lied to Mr Thompson. She said that she had been offered a place as a surgeon in an American hospital. She said she was happy, and that she would have sent him a postcard. At the end of her last encounter with the man, however, something inside her broke, and she felt the urge to add those last words: "I may not come back, Bill. Just... Try to remember me as long as you can"

"I've never forgotten you, you know? I thought about you every night before sleeping... Where have you been, dear?"

She wanted to tell him. She really did. She needed someone to know about what happened during those two years. The dog, however, deserved the vet's attention more than her, so she lied.

Again.

"I told you, I've been in America for a couple of years. I came back because... I missed London. And I had a car accident. Nothing serious, just a few scratches, but it made me realise that the New World is not right for me. Now, please, help me with this poor boy here. I found him in an alley near home... He is so thin, Bill, I've never seen such a skinny dog before. And his paws...God, they are bleeding so much".

Bill finally gave up his attempt to make her spill the truth and lazily waved his hand towards the door behind him.

"Alright.. Put him in my old study and start cleansing his wounds. You know were the bandages are". Cassandra almost jumped from her seat, the pain in her leg completely forgotten as she lifted the dog carefully in her arms.

"Ok, doggie, now we are going to fix you, and in no time you'll be back chasing squirrels and biting some post men's arse". She wanted to wake him up and make sure he was still alive, but the dog kept sleeping. More and more worried about her new friend, Cassandra turned on the lights of Bill's old study. It was a small squared room with nothing but an operating table, a sink, an x-Ray machine and a battered cupboard in it. The girl laid the animal on the cold metallic table and started searching for bandages, woollen cotton and alcohol. She then proceeded cleansing the dog's wounds, realising that some of them were infected. Dirt covered every inch of the animal's body and, even though his fur was thick and black, millions of fleas could be seen walking on his skin. Soon Cassandra understood that there was no point in disinfecting the wounds without giving the dog a proper bath. In that moment, Bill entered the room and started rummaging with the x-Ray machine.

"Before you move him further we'd better check if he has any broken bones... Come on, young lady, help this old man here with this evil machine." Despite the worry, Cassandra managed to smile at the vet's words. He had never liked the x-Ray machine, that was a fact. It was too heavy, too expensive, too... Technological. And Bill didn't like technology. At all. Fortunately, Cassandra was a little bit more open-minded, so in no time the dog was diagnosed with a few bruised ribs. Not too bad, considering his appearance.

After a long bath in which tonnes of insects, leaves and God-knows-what-else were left swimming peacefully in London sewers, Mr. Thompson auscultated the patient's heart and lungs. It came out that the poor dog had a bad pneumonia, which explained the fever. On the other hand, the cuts which covered his body proved not to be so deep as previously expected, even though some of them were badly infected.

"So... I gave him a high dose of pain killers, so he'll probably be asleep for the rest of the morning. I am also giving him a IV therapy, because at the moment he's too weak to handle proper food. In a few days, however, he will be able to eat on his own, so make sure you buy this particular brand of dog food. You will also have to buy this medicine for his lungs and this shampoo to get rid of the last fleas. Don't worry about him, he'll be fine in a week".

Cassandra, however, was too busy reading the "shopping" list with wide eyes to be happy for the dog. Medicines, food... Those items were all extremely expensive, and the girl's salary was definitely too low to pay for them. Suddenly, the teenager felt her eyes filling with tears.

_I am becoming a damn hormonal girl._

"Cassie? ...w-why are you crying dear? I thought you would have been glad to hear that our little friend here will be fine..."

"I...I'm happy Bill, of course... I-it's just that... I.. I can't afford these things. Hell, I hardly manage to buy food every day, a-and I have my own medicines to b-buy, and..."

"Wait a minute. Why should you have to buy food? I thought you still lived with the Colonel"

Suddenly, Cassandra found the floor particularly interesting. Why did she said that? Bill didn't have to know what happened to her. He wasn't her psychologist!

_Oh, well. Now I can't take it back._

After a few minutes, the girl finally managed to open her mouth to speak, although what came out was barely a whisper:

"C-colonel W-Wilkins d-did not appreciate my current physical s-state and sort of.. Sort of kicked me out"

Taking a deep breath, the ex-soldier looked up at the old man in front of her, who flinched slightly at the sight of her pained expression.

"Now I am living in a two room flat and I am broke. Before the... Trip in America I could use the money I earned by dancing or working in the bookshop as I wished. You know that every time I brought an injured animal I paid the bill without complaining... Now, however... I work in a hardware store, but the salary.. Isn't very high. Hell, yesterday evening I had to carry this dog and walk to your house because I couldn't even take a taxi! I had to stop taking pain killers because I couldn't afford them, and God knows how much I need them!" Cassandra's hands started shaking violently, but she kept her composure. She wouldn't lose her dignity, at least not completely.

Bill stared at her for a while, his old brain trying to understand what to say.

"Listen... Cassie... I won't ask you what actually happened in the past two years, since you clearly refuse to tell me the entire truth. However, since you've never acted this way in front of a bill to pay, I do believe in what you said about the Colonel, and I'm deeply sorry for what he did to you. Now, how about we leave this poor lad to his beauty sleep and we have a cup of tea? ". The old man then smiled fondly at his favourite teenager and patted her cheek.

"Wipe away your tears, my child. You know I can't stand the sight of an upset lady. We'll find a way out. We always do."

Suddenly, Cassandra remembered why she had never considered Mr. Thompson a proper friend, despite all the afternoons spent in his study healing injured creatures and chatting about her dreams. She had gotten herself in a big trouble.

* * *

_If I get old,_

_I will not give in_

_but if I do, remind me of this_

_Remind me that_

_once I was free_

_once I was clear_

_once I was me_

Padfoot was flying. Yes, he was peacefully floating in the sky like he used to do when he was young and still had his friends... and a broom, of course.

Maybe he was flying. Maybe he was dead, and this was Heaven. It was strange, though. Why couldn't he find James, or Lily? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see them... Actually, he couldn't see anything. Everything was so foggy and dark.

Maybe he wasn't in Heaven, after all. Maybe he was in Hell, like all the other members of his family.

Still... there was that voice... that sweet hoarse voice that reminded him of someone...

_If I get old, remind me of this:_

_That night we kissed, that I really meant it._

_Whatever happens, If we're still speaking_

_Pick up the phone, play me this song._

Wait.

A phone?

That was a Muggle device.

Wait. Muggles. London. London crowded with muggles. At night. With music...

Broken glasses.

The street spirit!

Maybe he wasn't dead, after all. Padfoot sniffed the air, just to be sure. Yes, the mysterious singer was definitely that strange street spirit he had met in the alley: he could feel his nostrils slowly filling with the wonderful scent which had lulled him to sleep. This time, however, cinnamon and orange were mixed with other smells, less pleasant: alcohol, blood... Oh. Now he remembered. That girl had taken him to the "veterinary", who, if his schoolboy memories didn't trick him, was a sort of healer of Muggle's pets. Suddenly, a soft touch almost made him jump with fear.

"Oh, you're awake! You gave me a heart attack! Bill said you'd have woken up after a few hours, but obviously he was wrong, the prat.. Come on, doggie, open your eyes please..."

Whimpering softly, Padfoot complied, careful not to be completely blinded by the ambulatory bright lights. When he finally opened his eyes, however, he found out that the light was dimmer than he thought. Actually, it was almost dark. After a few minutes, the dog managed to focus on his surroundings. He didn't know where veterinarians worked, but that didn't resemble a St. Mungo's room at all. First of all, in St. Mungo's nobody slept on the floor, and at the moment he was certainly lying on an old yet clean parquet, probably wrapped in a rather soft plaid. Sirius waited for the girl to say something, but she simply kept stroking his fur, which, by the way, felt much cleaner than before.

Encouraged by the young lady's silence, Padfoot dared to lift his head and look around more properly. He was in a small room, dark because the only sources of light were three or four small candles left on the floor. A small camp bed lied on the opposite side of the room, and next to it there was an oil lamp. Piles and piles of books lied scattered on the floor, as well as lots of newspapers and some sort of flat, circular... things. On his right the view was occupied by a huge black squared object... a television? It was on, and Padfoot could see the light coming from the muggle device. The walls were probably white, and were covered with posters. Then, Sirius turned his head on the left, and there she was, his street spirit, his saviour, grinning madly at him.

"Good evening, doggie"

Her face was hidden in the dark, but Sirius could still catch glimpses of her appearance: she was beautiful. She had long, wavy hair which fell graciously on her shoulders and gently brushed against his legs. She was thin, and the small flames of the candle drew intricate red patterns on her tonic arms. Her eyes were big and shining in the darkness, but Padfoot wasn't able to determine their colour.

_Bloody hell, this place is darker than the street where I found Harry._

_Harry._

_Oh, shit._

"No, doggie, stop! You'll hurt yourself!", he heard the girl exclaim. Huffing loudly he fell back on the floor. She was right. He wasn't strong enough to get up, let alone walk. Why did he choose to go to London in the first place? Why didn't he keep following his godson?

_Because little Prongslet got on the Knight Bus leaving you trembling behind a fence. Get a grip on yourself man._

Mentally slapping himself for having forgotten that probably Harry was safe in one of his friends' home, Sirius tried to relax.

_I have to recover and get used to the presence of other human beings again. Only then I'll be able to face Harry, Remus and Cassie. Oh. _

_Really smart, Padfoot. You wander through London streets for hours and you don't even find a clue about Cassie's current whereabouts. _

_Maybe she doesn't live in London. Maybe she is still in Scotland._

_That's right... So... Why did I come to London, then?_

_Because you are a lazy git who can only think about food and having fun._

Before one of the many voices inside his head could reply, however, the girl started speaking again.

"Hey, doggie... Why are you so sad? You don't have to worry, you know... You have been asleep for a couple of days, so now you may be a bit confused... But apart from this you are perfectly fine! Tomorrow I'll start giving you some real food, and maybe you'll even be able to walk around a bit!", she sounded happy and excited, but Padfoot could hear that something was wrong. Suddenly, the girl lied down so as to look at him straight in the eye.

"You know... I had to do a bad thing to buy your things. A _very _bad thing. But it was worth it. _You_ are worth it. Because you are innocent and pure and you don't deserve to d-die..."

Panic started rising in Padfoot's chest as he saw a small tear trailing down the girl's cheek. Panic and guilt.

If only she knew who he really was...

Other tears fell on the floor, and soon the girl's breath became ragged. Before Sirius could think about what to do, the young woman buried her face in the dog's fur, sobbing loudly.

_What did she have to do to save me? No, come on, don't cry... _

"Do you think he'll ever forgive m-me? I... he i-is a g-good man. I know t-this. He is.. honest and s-smart and r-respected. W-why should he want t-to d-deal with a poor, dangerous p-person l-like me?... I'm .. I'm a monster! Oh, God..."

The girl kept crying, and Padfoot was lost in thoughts. He remembered those words, and he remembered the person who had pronounced them.

_"Hey, Cassie, what's up darling?"._

_A young Sirius Black kneels in front of a tiny four-year-old girl who looks very worried._

_"It's Dad, Paddy. He is not feeling well.."_

_Black's grey eyes widen in understanding. That's it. Little Cassie is a smart girl, too smart for her own good. She knows everything. _

_"Ehr... I think that your daddy is perfectly fine! Come on, why don't you go to play a bit with Lily and the other girls? I'm sure they need your help with whatever subject they are studying!"_

_Cassie's worried expression, however, turns into a sceptic frown._

_"But Paddy...Auntie Lily is playing with Prongs and Marley doesn't want to play with me!"_

_Damn Marlene. Sirius will have to talk to her about this._

_"Ok... what about Wormy, then? I think he is in the Common Room eating and... Well, he really needs your help with his Transfiguration essay"_

_Now Cassie is clearly disgusted._

_"No, Not Pete, pleeease! He smells of cheese and talks like a mouse."_

_Sirius can't help but chuckle at the girl's antics. Still, he needs to talk to Moony. Alone. _

_"Very well, young lady... This is my last offer. How about Hagrid? He smells of dead hens, but you don't mind that smell, do you?"_

_Suddenly, the child's frown turns into a grin. A pretty wolfish grin._

_"Yes! He'll let me touch the Hippogriffs!". And she runs away happily, leaving a slightly pale Sirius behind her._

_"Hippogriffs... Naaah, she's just kidding..."_

_Still thinking about baby girls and huge magical creatures, Padfoot enters Gryffindor seventh years' dorm, where, of course, Remus is studying._

_"Hey Moony"_

_"Hey Pads"_

_"Can I ask you a question?"_

_" 'Course"_

_"When are you going to tell Cassie about your furry little problem?"_

_A book falls on the floor with a loud thud._

_"W-what? Sirius, we talked about this! She's too young!"_

_"Oh, Come on, Remus! She may be a child, but she is smarter than anyone else in this school! She learned how to read when she was three, Remus. Three! And do you actually think she has never heard of a werewolf before? Hell, she has lived with them for the first two years of her life! Now she keeps asking about you, why you are always so pale and tired... She thinks you are ILL, for God's sake! She's worried, and probably even hurt by the way you keep lying to her!"_

_Remus doesn't say anything. He just stares at Sirius with his ice-green eyes. He stares, and stares, until the first tear falls,_

_"Look, Moony... I didn't"_

_"OH, SHUT UP! DO YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT SHE IS A SMART GIRL? DO YOU THINK THAT SEEING HER SO WORRIED DOES NOT BREAK MY HEART?! I KNOW SHE IS SMART, AND KIND AND LOVING. BUT IT WAS MY... KIND WHO ALMOST KILLED HER! WHY WOULD SHE WANT TO DEAL WITH A POOR, DANGEROUS MAN LIKE ME?! I'M A MONSTER!...OH, GOD.. I'D BETTER LEAVE HER TO A PROPER FAMILY INSTEAD OF KEEPING HER NEAR A BEAST!"_

_Remus stops shouting abruptly, his tear-strained face suddenly as pale as a sheet._

_Cassandra is there, observing him._

_She has tears in her beautiful eyes, fear clear on her face._

_"Please, Dad... I'm sorry.. d-don't leave me."_

_"_Please, Dad... I'm so sorry.."

Padfoot looked down at the girl sobbing in his fur and froze.


	5. Go To Sleep

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everybody!**

**First of all, I really don't know how to thank Naflower05 for her review. I wish I could answer to your question, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait for the next chapters ;)**

**In this update you'll find a little surprise which wasn't planned. At all. I had to rewrite everything three times to get this straight. I hope it will make things more interesting... **

**Again, Go To Sleep is a Radiohead song... I think I'll stop writing this particular note at the beginning of each chapter, it's getting boring!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_Oh God._

_Godgodgod._

_No, It can't be true._

_Come on._

_I'm not that lucky._

_Still.._

_Oh, God._

Padfoot's mind was a mess. After that little flashback his brain simply stopped working. Could everything be so... easy? No. Those words... those words were only a coincidence... They HAD to be a coincidence.

_Why?_

_Why shouldn't she be Cassandra?_

It just felt... Wrong. Cassandra was a happy child. She had always been cheerful, talkative, sweet. This girl... Yes, she seemed to be sweet and kind, but... Missed that "something" that made Cassie be, well..._ Cassie._

_Maybe she just grew up. After all, it's been thirteen years since you last saw her, so now she should be.._

_Seventeen._

No. This girl couldn't be Cassandra. Cassandra was a bright, cheerful teenager, not a twenty-something, depressed and lonely woman.

Padfoot's heart sank.

He hadn't found Cassandra. She was still lost, and he was still alone.

Lost in his thoughts, the dog didn't notice that the girl had fallen asleep at some point of her breakdown and the sun was slowly rising on London.

Suddenly, something shifted beside Sirius.

_Oh. She's awake._

The animagus closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. He didn't want to face her, he didn't want to look at her in the light. A small part inside him still hoped that his saviour was Cassandra, and the destruction of that hope would have meant an unbearable pain in his heart.

The girl finally moved from her lying position, grumbling and huffing like an angry wolf. Padfoot heard a thud, and a long string of half-whispered curses echoed in the small room.

_Don't look. You don't want to know what happened. You are sleeping. Sleeeeping. _

Sirius Black, however, was a curious man, and just couldn't resist.

The scene in front of him was... interesting. Apparently, the girl had tripped on one of the books on the floor and had fallen on the camp bed, being immediately "attacked" by dozens of colorful cushions. Now she was struggling to get up, kicking like a mad horse and throwing pillows all around the room. After a couple of minutes the young woman finally managed to reach a sitting position and dropped her head in her hands, yawning loudly. Her hair was ruffled, and this made her look more like a tired lion rather than an ethereal ghost.

She was wearing a baggy white T-shirt, which partly covered her slim legs. Well, her leg and a half. Truth be told, Sirius felt a bit sick at the sight of the stump of her right leg: the bandages which covered it where red with blood, and the rest of the thigh was full of long, deep gashes.

Suddenly something clicked in Padfoot's mind: those were not normal cuts. For the second time in a couple of hours the dog was reminded of his school days, but this time hope was replaced by a sense of terror and dread.

With his heart thumping painfully in his chest, Sirius raised into a sitting position, whimpering when his weight shifted on his battered paws. The sound seemed to catch the girl's attention, who lifted her head and looked at him.

_Her eyes are really beautiful._

_They are so..green._

_Not Lily's green.._

_They look like two leaves of frozen sage..._

_Oh. _

_OH._

_Oh God. Ooooh God._

_Godgodgodgodgod..._

Padfoot's brain was stuck in a loop. Again. Those eyes were unmistakable. Those were Remus' eyes, the eyes he got from his mother. Those were Cassandra's eyes.

...

_Cassandra._

_..._

_Cassandra!_

_Cassandracassandracassandra!_

_CASSANDRA!_

Sirius' heart was about to explode with joy and relief. He wanted to turn back human and hug tightly the young Maraudrette, never letting her go again. He wanted to lift her and swoop her in the air as he used to do when she was only a child. He wanted to take her hands and make her dance and laugh. He wanted to tell her that everything would have been alright, that now she was safe with her Padfoot. For the second time in twelve years, Sirius Black wanted to laugh.

But he couldn't. Not yet. He was an escaped convict after all, and probably even Muggles knew about his supposed crimes: even if Cassandra remembered him, which was highly improbable, she would believe him a mass murderer. He had to be careful and gain the girl's trust before even thinking about revealing his true identity. Still, at the moment he was a really happy dog, so he couldn't help but exult in a doggish way: he literally jumped on his not-so-little-anymore Cassie and licked every inch of her face, waggling his tail madly.

"Doggie! Agh!... Good morning to you too... Agh! Stop!". Cassandra laughed and tried to get free from the overjoyed Animagus. Her giggles, however, resulted only in making Padfoot's heart dance tip-tap in his chest, and the dog continued spreading his drool all over the poor girl's face.

They went on like this for almost half an hour, Sirius drooling and jumping up and down the bed and Cassandra laughing madly. Eventually, Padfoot's heart calmed down a bit and the ex-soldier was able to get ready for the day.

"My Lord, doggie... I'm covered in drool! Well, that means you'll have to wait a bit for your breakfast. I'm going to have a shower, just... don't destroy everything, ok?" . Padfoot was hanging off her words, his bright grey eyes filled with joy and love. He sat down on the bed, observing intently every movement she made.

Still smiling softly, Cassandra reached for a strange black thing, which had the shape of a leg.

Despite the happy look on her face, it was clear that the girl was in pain. She was pale as death, with dark circles under her eyes and bluish, chapped lips. Padfoot could see her chest rising and falling with clear effort, and her limbs shaking slightly. She gingerly touched the drenched bandages which covered her stump, and soon even her white hands were red with blood. Sighing, the girl took a small metallic box from under her bed, she opened it and placed it beside her. Then, she proceeded removing the dirty bandages.

Sirius wanted to look away, but his muscles were frozen and his mind confused. So he watched. He watched her long hands gently lift the gauze, revealing a swollen bloody piece of flesh which once had been a leg. He watched the muscles of her right thigh clenching painfully while blood slowly drew complicated patterns on the pale skin. He watched Cassandra as she took a big bottle out of the box. She leaned against the wall and took a huge breath. Then, she poured the content of the bottle on her wounds, grinding her teeth in order not to scream.

Padfoot wanted to look away, he really did, but all the strength seemed to have left him, so he watched. He watched as his Mauradrette let the bottle fall on the ground, her limbs to weak to hold such a light object anymore. He watched as she shakily took a needle and a string from the box and started stitching _her own flesh_. She didn't cry, or scream, or whimper. She worked rapidly, almost mechanically, her brows furrowed in concentration. Padfoot, on the other hand, wanted to scream and cry and kill the bastard that had dared to touch his Cassie. But he knew that wasn't his job. Those scars, those gashes... they were not normal. No human could have made them, yet no animal was able to produce such a damage.

_Moony won't like this. At all._

Cassandra finished stitching and took new bandages from the box. Finally, the stump was covered again, ready to be trapped in that black thing. She rummaged with strings and screws for a while, then took the crutch and got up.

She was tall, like her father. Despite the scars and the pale skin, she didn't appear weak. Instead, she was wrapped in an aura of dominance and strength. She was broken, both physically and emotionally, but somehow she was finding the energy to go on with her life.

Padfoot watched her as she picked up some clothes from a carton box in the corner of that "house" and limped towards what seemed to be the bathroom.

She was humming an old Muggle song that Sirius had heard long before.

_There is a house_

_in New Orleans_

_they call the Rising Sun_

_It's been the ruin of many a poor girl_

_and me, Oh God, I'm one *_

The cheerful tone with which she sang made Sirius' blood run cold. He knew how the song ended.

_What happened to you, Cassie?_

* * *

Minerva McGonagall wasn't happy. At all. She could have been at home, sitting on her favourite armchair and reading that new essay about Trasfiguration Filius gave her for her birthday. But NO. Of course, Dumbledore had to get in the way.

_"Please, Minerva. I have an important meeting with the Wizengamot to attend ... You know that if I could I would have done this myself"._

Of course he would. Still, she was the one who was standing in front of the gates of an old battered cottage in the middle of nowhere, trying to find the courage to go in and face the biggest failure in her life.

Sighing deeply, Minerva made her way towards the forest surrounding the house. She knew he wasn't at home. He hated that cottage, he had told her long ago, when he was still lucid enough to held a semi-logical conversation.

The forest was dark and quiet, even if it was eleven in the morning. No bird sang on the trees, no squirrel ran between the bushes. Even the spiders had left that place. Still, the silence was comfortable, and the shadow made it easy to stand August hot temperatures.

She walked, and walked and walked, thinking about the bad memories she would soon have to revive with a man she had tried to forget. She had felt sympathy for him, even pity at some point. She had tried to help him, talking to him, holding him while he cried. She didn't remember why she really got fed up and left him in his misery. Maybe she was just tired of being the strong one, the rock which couldn't be touched by the tragedies of life. She had regretted her decision so much, she had felt so selfish for leaving him alone. But now, the only emotion visible on her face was annoyance. Annoyance and anger. How could he, after all the things she had done for him, forget to mention this to her? HER? She was simply outraged, and Dumbledore's office was the proof of her wrath. Magic still radiated from her skin as she stomped her feet on the ground, jumping roots and broken branches which an almost feline grace.

Then, she saw him. Well, she saw his back. He was sitting on a rock, shoulders slumped and head bowed miserably. How could Dumbledore affirm that he had changed? He looked the same brooding man she had left on the same rock eleven years before. She stayed there, perfectly still, for minutes or hours, she didn't actually cared at that point. She knew he had heard her coming, he only had to gather the strength to acknowledge her presence. Finally, a deep, calm yet hoarse voice filled the silent forest.

"Good morning Minerva. It's nice to see you after all this years."

He didn't turn. He never did.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He stiffened visibly, but still didn't move.

"I reckon Albus told you about our last meeting".

Now Minerva was literally trembling with rage, but still managed to sound calm.

"You didn't answer my question".

This time, the man shifted slightly. Minerva was able to see his pointed ears poking from his messy light brown hair.

"You can come here, you know. I swear I don't smell that bad"

The old woman huffed grumblingly, but finally gave in and came to face the object of her rage.

Albus was right: he had changed. Not in the way she expected, though. He was more... feral, in a certain sense. He had let his hair and beard grow freely, and now only a small part of his face was still visible. A long scar ran from the top of his forehead down to somewhere in his cheek, almost cutting his left eyebrow in half. His eyes however were still the same: huge, ice-green eyes were fixed on her face, filled with every negative emotion she knew. Sadness, anger, melancholy, worry, fear... guilt. Differently from the last time she saw him, however, those eyes were not glazed and unfocused, but bright and wary.

"Happy, now, Mr. Lupin?"

"Simply giddy, Minerva." He didn't smile. Not even the small, tentative smile he used to plaster on his face after a bad full-moon. It was like his facial muscles had been paralyzed.

"Now, please would you mind..."

"You didn't have to know. _Nobody _had to know. Albus sort of.. forced me to spill the truth. I made him promise not to tell anyone, but apparently he didn't listen". Remus interrupted her, his tone bitter and full of regret. He was still looking at her, not blinking once. _A true alpha_, she thought with a sigh.

"Why?"

"It was the best thing to do."

"NO! NO, IT WASN'T THE BEST THING TO DO! YOU HAD TO TELL ME! YOU HAD TO TALK TO DUMBLEDORE! YOU CAN'T PLAY GOD, REMUS! YOU CAN'T DECIDE WHAT IS BEST FOR OTHER PEOPLE, NO MATTER HOW RATIONAL YOUR IDEA MAY SEEM!"

Minerva had never been so angry before. A few trees even caught fire behind her. Remus, however, didn't seem disturbed the least by her sudden outburst. He simply kept watching her.

"She was happy."

Minerva stared at him. How could he? How could he even think a thing like that? But then again, he was Remus. He lived with the deep belief that nobody could be happy with him because of his condition. In his mind, the tragedies of his life did nothing but confirm his thoughts.

"How do you know that, Remus? Did you talk to her? Did you _ask _her if she was happy?"

Remus didn't answer, but still didn't lower his gaze to the ground. He blinked, though. Twice.

"That's what I thought. You didn't even _try_ to approach her, didn't you? That's why you didn't tell anyone! Not because it was the right thing to do, but because you are a coward!" Minerva thundered, trying to gain some sort of reaction.

And a reaction she gained.

The werewolf got up from the rock. He was tall, maybe even taller than eleven years before. His face was still blank but his eyes betrayed the anger which was slowly overwhelming him. He looked dark and dangerous and, for the first time, Minerva found herself being scared by her former student.

"I don't think you understand how much courage I had to gather to leave her without talking to her. I don't think you understand how much courage did it take to admit that she looked happy and probably didn't need my presence in her life." His voice was low, almost a growl, and Minerva backed away slightly. She knew he would never change his mind. He was too stubborn. Still, she had to try and convince him about the absurdity of that situation.

"She loved you, you know that. She loved you and trusted you from the first time she saw you. How can you say that she doesn't need you?". The professor's voice was soft and barely audible, but Remus heard her anyway.

"Did Albus tell you where I last saw her?"

Minerva shivered slightly. His tone was so... cold. It looked like his heart was frozen.

Albus was right. He had definitely changed.

"No... he only told me that you saw her two years ago and decided to leave her for good".

Suddenly, Remus turned away from Minerva and started walking towards the cottage. The animagus followed him quickly, a bit startled. Without speaking, the werewolf entered the house, leaving the door open for the old woman.

"You can sit down if you want. I'll make some tea". With that, Remus disappeared in the kitchen, leaving a dumbfounded Professor McGonagall in the middle of the entrance hall.

_Why is he acting this way? Usually when he's angry he growls for a bit then shouts until he loses his voice... This mask of indifference and coldness he has put on... it's not right._

Lost in her thoughts, Minerva sat on an old armchair near the empty fireplace. She didn't hear Remus approaching with two steaming cups of tea, and gasped loudly when he sat on the couch in front of her.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you" he said, although he didn't sound sorry the least. The werewolf crossed his legs and fixed his gaze on the fireplace, playing distractedly with the mug in his hands.

Minerva didn't know what to say or do. Maybe she only had to wait for Remus to speak up and tell her the full story. Maybe the werewolf expected her to forget everything and explain the reason of her visit. Finally, after a few minutes of unbearable quietness, the man broke the awkward silence.

"As Albus told you, I saw her two years ago, in December. I was walking in muggle London and there she was, sitting in a small restaurant and surrounded by a dozen of people of her age, maybe just a bit older than her. She was laughing at something a boy next to her had said. Maybe he was his boyfriend, I don't know... I wanted to go in, I really did. I wanted to grab her and take away from that bunch of muggles. Before I could even think about opening the door of the restaurant, however, I managed to overhear part of the conversation. It turned out she was going to graduate in a few months and was a bit sad because she would have left her friends to go working as a doctor in America. A doctor, Minerva. If she had stayed with me, she probably wouldn't have had enough money to go to a Muggle University! In that moment I understood that whoever took her away from me that day did the right thing. That person gave her a future. That person gave her the possibility of living a happy life in which the biggest problem is to decide what to wear on her graduation day. I couldn't go in and destroy everything, could I?"

Word after word Minerva felt her heart growing heavier and heavier. Remus was right: he didn't have a choice. If the girl was happy, nobody had the right to take her and mess up her life completely. It was probably too late to try and regain her love and trust, anyway. The Transfiguration teacher sipped slowly her tea, trying to hide the sadness which was rapidly overwhelming her. After a few minutes she managed to swallow part of the lump in her throat.

"How... how is s-she?"

For the first time, Remus Lupin's lips curled up in a small, sad smile.

"What can I say, Minerva? She is Cassandra. The most beautiful woman the world will ever see", and then, almost unnoticed, a small tear fell on Remus' beard, shimmering like a dying star.

The couple sat in silence for a long time, both too overwhelmed by memories speak without crying. After almost an hour, Remus finally found the strength to clear his throat and speak.

"So... I guess you didn't come here simply to scold me about my life decision, did you?"

Minerva shook out of her reverie and sat up a bit straighter.

"No, uhm... Well, actually Albus sent me. As you know, we tend to have problems keeping a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor for more than a year..."

Remus nodded, the cold mask of indifference finally disappeared from his face.

"... And we can say that last year was not an exception to this.. tradition."

This time the werewolf snorted with amusement. He knew that the previous year Gilderoy Lockhart had been the DADA teacher, and that was saying enough.

" So Albus was thinking if you.. if you would be interested in getting the job".

A loud crash echoed in the room as Remus' cup fell on the cold stony floor of the cottage. The werewolf, however didn't seem to care, since he was too busy staring open-mouthed at his former Professor.

"Are you... you are not joking, right?"

The animagus shot Remus a stern glare, immediately reminding him of his school days as a Marauder.

"Mr. Lupin, do you really think that I would abandon a good Transfiguration essay just to come here and prank you?"

"Ehr... Of course not, Minerva, sorry... It's just... I am a werewolf!"

"I am aware of this fact, Mr. Lupin".

"And... this.. this won't be a problem?"

"I am not planning to set your lessons during full-moons, and parents do not need to know about your condition, so I don't see any problem with you being part of Hogwarst staff."

"And... you're sure? I mean... apart from the werewolf thing I... I am not..ehr..."

Minerva arched an eyebrow. "Albus told me you quit alcohol years ago"

"Oh! Yes, yes, of course I d-don't drink anymore... I smoke sometimes but... but that's not a problem, is it? What I meant is... is that maybe I am not..."

Remus stopped his rambling, apparently lost in his own words, and looked at McGonagall with pleading eyes.

_God, give me strength._

"Remus... I am sure you will be a wonderful teacher, if that's what is bothering you. I mean, I think you saved a whole generation of students from failure when you were at Hogwarst. I know that at the time your life was somewhat... easier, but you cannot let your past lead your future. _You are strong_, Remus. You managed to survive for thirteen years. Now it's time to start living."

Remus fixed his gaze in the fireplace. Minerva could almost hear the wheels in his brain working, processing the words she had just said. Finally, the werewolf smiled. A true, wonderful, huge smile.

"Thank you, Minerva. I... I would be honoured to accept your offer".

Minerva almost cried at the sight of the sudden joy radiating from the man in front of her. Almost. She was still a bit annoyed with him, after all._  
_

"Now, Remus, You have less than a month to prepare for the incoming term. Tomorrow you'll receive the copies of the books you'll need. Albus will contact you in the next days to tell you about the full-moons". Satisfied with her short explanation, Minerva got up and prepared herself to leave.

"..Ah.. Remus? Please, shave".

With that, she disappeared.

Remus sighed and got up from the couch, his smile gone. It had been so easy to play the "happy and grateful man" part, even if only for a few minutes. Maybe pretending to be cheerful for a whole year wouldn't be that difficult.

Truth be told, the werewolf couldn't care the least about his future. At the moment he only wanted to sleep.

_Please, let me sleep._

He slowly walked towards his bedroom and crawled under the covers. He didn't care if it was noon and the sun was shining. He only wanted to sleep.

_Please, let me sleep._

He wanted to sleep, but he couldn't, because every time he closed his eyes he relived the feelings he had experienced on that fateful full-moon a few months before.

Yes, that day in the restaurant Cassandra was happy. But now, all Remus could feel when he closed his eyes was an umbearable pain and a murderous howl.

Cassandra wasn't happy anymore.

She was dead, and, again, it was all his fault.

* * *

* This song is called House of the Rising Sun. It is an old American song which has been adapted loads of times... I particularly like Lauren O'Connell's version, although it's a bit shorter than the original.

The last lines of the song are:

_One foot is on the platform_  
_And the other one on the train,_  
_I'm going back to New Orleans_  
_To wear that ball and chain._

_Going back to New Orleans,_  
_My race is almost run._  
_Going back to spend the rest of my days_  
_Beneath that Rising Sun._


	6. Jigsaw Falling Into Place

**Author's Note:**

**Hi guys!**

**First of all, a HUGE thank you to Naflower05, who always writes very nice reviews and gives me the energy to keep writing!**

**Secondly... Woah. This chapter is really long, compared with my standards. I wanted to describe Cassandra's first steps with magic, but in the end I decided to leave this part for the next update. HOWEVER, this chapter will be ENTIRELY centered around Cassandra and Sirius' interaction, and will be FULL of flashbacks, so I hope you'll enjoy it.**

**Please, please, please review! I'd love to hear about your suggestions and notes about the story and I'd also appreciate a feedback about my language. In fact, I'd like to remind you that I'm Italian and English is not my first language, so I may have made some grammar mistakes... Anyway, don't be shy and comment on this story! **

**I don't have anything else to say, apart from the fact that all the magical information you'll find here was taken from Harry Potter Wiki and, that, of course, I don't own anything apart from Cassandra's character. Soooo, I really think I should let you read this chapter!**

* * *

Grey_ eyes._

_Bright as silver. Troubled as storm._

_They are watching you. They beg you._

_Green eyes._

_Frozen like sage in winter. Warm with love._

_They are searching for you. They miss you._

_Emerald eyes._

_Dead, yet alive. Shining in the dark like a precious diadem._

_They don't know you. Yet, they need you._

_Hazel eyes._

_Dull with death. Bright with tears._

_They are talking to you._

_Help them._

_Help your friend._

_Help your father._

_Help your brother._

_You wander through the ruins of a town._

_A man approaches you. He says "come with me, we'll find your dad"._

_You don't trust him._

_He hurt your dad._

_He hurt you._

_But he says he'll find your dad._

_You need your dad._

_And Padfoot._

_And Prongs._

_And Lily._

_You take the man's hand._

_He draws his wand._

_Obliviate._

_And you're gone._

Cassandra woke up with a start, her battered heart racing and her sheets drenched in cold sweat.

_Damn._

Flashbacks and nightmares. They'd got worse. She couldn't sleep, because every time she closed her eyes, images and sounds invaded her mind. She couldn't work, because every sound or smell triggered a memory, alienating her from the rest of the world.

Memories. They were so absurd. So surreal. Strange ceilings, hooded figures, colorful flashes of light. Wands. Cassandra knew what a wand was. She had read about them when she was six, in a children book. Wands were magic. Magic didn't exist. Did it?

Cassandra was confused. And tired, oh so tired. Initially she thought that her new friend could save her from madness, but his presence seemed to make things worse. Not that he wasn't a good dog, actually he was almost too... understanding. Every time she woke up from a nightmare or she fell in her "trance", as her boss called it, Doggie was there, licking her face and nuzzling her neck. It looked like he wanted to comfort her. And it usually worked, for a couple of minutes. The fact was that the dog looked familiar. His grey eyes, his fur... She remembered them, but they didn't cause any flashback. Just like the pictures of Sirius Black.

Ah, Sirius Black, the man of the mystery. Her father knew him. She knew him. The question was _how_. Cassandra spent hours in the archives looking for more information about the escaped convict, but she didn't find _anything, _apart from two newspaper articles and a few photos of the crime scene. She couldn't even find out the name of _the prison_ he had been sent into. According to the archives Sirius Black didn't exist, yet everybody talked about him and his horrible crimes. It didn't feel right.

Cassandra got up from the camp bed, her head throbbing painfully. She glanced at the old alarm clock on the floor: 2 a.m.

_2 a.m._

_"Lily...Lily... Auntie Lily, wake up!"_

_A small candle fills the darkness with light, revealing a pretty disheveled redhead sitting on her bed and looking around frantically._

_"Cassandra? Cassandra what happened?"_

_"I miss them..."_

_The young woman sighs sadly and lifts the blankets, letting a three-year-old Cassandra crawl under the covers with her. When the child is comfortably cuddled beside her, the girl wraps her arms around _ _the tiny figure._

_"Oh, Cassie... My little angel... You know you don't have to worry about them. They'll be fine"_

_"But.. but... why can't I go with them? Where do they go Auntie?"_

_"My dear, you know I can't tell you... But trust me, they are safe, and in a few hours they'll be back with you. Now, please, sweetheart, try to sleep."_

_"...Lily?"_

_"Yes, Cassie?"_

_"What's a "Mudblood"?"_

_Lily stiffens visibly, the temperature in the room seems to drop dramatically._

_"Cassandra, when did you hear that word?"_

_The girl's voice is harsh, and the child shifts in the bed uncomfortably. She shouldn't have asked that question, now Lily is angry with her._

_"...Yesterday that strange boy told a girl that she is a "mudblood". She was very very sad..."_

_Lily breaths heavily and tightens her grip around Cassandra. Good. Now she isn't angry anymore._

_"Well, Cassie... The girl was sad because "Mudblood" is a very very bad word. It means that your blood is dirty because your mum and dad are Muggles"._

_"But Lily... your Mum and Dad are Muggles and your blood is red like mine!"_

_Lily chuckles lightly in the darkness, trying to stifle a yawn._

_" I know, darling, I know... It's just that some people believe that you can't be a good witch or wizard if your relatives are Muggles. You don't have to listen to those people, ok? They are silly and stupid."_

_"Ok Auntie."_

_"Good. Now, please, Cassie, sleep."_

_"Ok... 'Night Lily."_

_"Goodnight dear."_

_..._

_"Lily?"_

_"Mmmh?"_

_"What's a "Half-breed"?"_

God. Not again. Who the hell was this "Lily", anyway? And witches? Seriously?

Cassandra was so tired. However, since sleep was momentarily out of question, the scarred girl got up from bed and started doing the only thing that could give her mind some rest: taking notes about her nightmares. In a few weeks she had managed to fill two notebooks with images, sounds, feelings, smells... Anything that could be important to complete the puzzle of her past. Not that these notes could actually help her research: no British town near a train station had been attacked by terrorists or whatever in 1977, and nobody in England went after the surname of Lupin, apart from her. Long story short, her nightmares and visions didn't seem to have any kind of realistic foundation. Still, despite her scientific mind told her to see a psychiatrist, her heart urged her to keep writing. And so she did, sitting on the floor at the light of an oil lamp.

At some point in the night Doggie woke up and limped towards her, licking her wounded cheek affectionately and laying his head on her lap. Cassandra couldn't help but burying her face in the dog's fur and inhaling deeply. Mint and lemon. Was it possible for a dog to smell so good? It was just another unanswered question, but this time Cassandra couldn't care less: she just enjoyed the freshness of that scent combined with the reassuring warmth of the canine's body.

The ex-soldier kept breathing the dog's scent while stroking softly his fur, and again, that strange sensation of familiarity stroke her. It was frustrating how her brain could provide Cassandra with all sorts of images and "memories" and yet wasn't able to explain that feeling. Trying to find a way to ignore her evil mind, the girl's eyes fell on the remote. It had been a week since she last turned on the tv, shortly before Doggie woke up. She had decided not to watch it again, since her brain was enough overloaded and she didn't want to stumble across Sirius Black's face again. However, since it was two in the morning and the oil lamp didn't allow her to read a book, Cassandra tried her luck, grabbing the remote and push the on button.

Of course, Cassandra Lupin had no luck, and soon the handsome yet haunted face of the escaped convict was floating on the screen behind a pretty blond reporter.

_"Scotland Yard is still investigating on the case of Sirius Black, the convicted mass murderer who escaped from prison three weeks ago..."_

The girl groaned loudly, leaning her head on the wall behind her.

_Grey eyes._

_Bright as silver. Troubled as storm._

_They are watching you. They beg you._

_You feel you are missing something._

_You don't understand._

_You trusted him._

_He trusts you._

Those eyes... Unknown, yet awfully familiar. They were so sad, so full of grief and despair. They were innocent.

Despite the lack of proofs, despite the fact that the whole British population seemed to be certain about the man's crimes, Cassandra was _sure_ about Sirius Black's innocence. It was a feeling, an instinct that not even her rational mind could ignore.

Twelve years. Twelve years spent in a jail, isolated from the rest of the world, _despised _by the rest of the world. Cassandra felt a pang of sympathy for the convict in the picture. He was an outcast, just like her.

_And he knew your father. Very well._

_You knew him too._

_You were happy._

What happened? They were happy. They were good. What did they do to deserve such a hard punishment?

She missed all of them. Her father, Sirius Black.. Cassandra didn't even remember their faces well, yet she felt the desperate need to meet them again, to feel their presence, just for a second...

Tears began to shine in the dark as the ex- soldier stroked the soft fur of the dog in her lap.

"What do you think Doggie? Is it crazy to miss a man you don't even know and who could have killed thirteen people in a row? I think it's crazy. But I can't help it, Doggie. Somehow he is part of the family I lost, and I miss him. If only he knew where I am... I only want to talk to him. Maybe he really is a mass murderer, but... but I simply can't believe it! My dad was... is a good person, and his friends are good people too! Yes, that's it. Sirius Black must be innocent. What if he has left the country for good? I can't ... I can't even think about it. No. He must be still here, somewhere in England, looking for... for me..."_  
_

Cassandra went on with her rambling, unaware of the fact that Sirius Black was indeed there with her and was now looking at her with wide eyes. The man had spent a week with the girl, trying to understand if she remembered him or her father. She seemed to be completely oblivious of her past, even though she was somehow haunted by brief flashbacks every few minutes. Cassandra often talked to him about her nightmares and visions, but she had never mentioned his name before.

_Oh, Cassie. My beautiful Cassie, apple of my eyes..._

She believed he was innocent! She missed him! Padfoot's heart was simply exploding with hope and joy.

_I'll bring you back to your father, Cassie, and we'll be a family again! You, me, Moony, Prongslet..._

In no time the animagus made up his mind: in the morning he would turn back human and answer to the girl's questions. Then he would held her tight and together they would find the rest of the pack.

* * *

_A deep calm voice echoes in the night._

_"You are my sunshine_

_my only sunshine,_

_you make me happy when skies are grey_

_you'll never know dear, how much I love you_

_please don't take my sunshine away"_

_Cassandra is calm and happy, slowly drifting into a peaceful sleep. Her dad is with her and she is wrapped in his scent. Pine, fresh earth and resin._

Cassandra opened her eyes, her headache gone. She felt strangely relaxed and rested.

Curious.

Stretching lazily and cracking her stiff neck, the girl got up from the floor. She filled a kettle with some water and put everything on the camp stove, her nostrils still wrapped in her father's reassuring scent.

_I remember how he smells but I don't even know how his face looks like... I'm reeeally messed up._

Yawning, the ex soldier reached for the bag in which she kept Doggie's food, grabbing a big can and a box of medicines.

_Wait... Where's Doggie?_

Cassandra looked around, finally wide awake. He wasn't in his kennel, he wasn't on her bed. He wasn't even _under _her bed.

The girl dropped the tan, her hands shaking with panick.

_No. NO. Nononono... he can't be gone. The door was closed, I checked... Didn't I?_

The girl bolted to the front door. Yes. It was locked.

_Then where could he be?_

Suddenly something clicked in the teenager's brain, and Cassandra felt the urge to kick herself mentally for not having checked the other room in her flat, the bathroom. Sighing deeply and still shaking slightly, the girl limped towards the white door, grabbed the handle and pushed...

Doggie wasn't in the bathroom. The room, however, wasn't empty either. In fact, what seemed to be the shadow of a man sat on the floor between the shower and the sink, his face hidden behind his skinny hands. He was wearing an old, battered and dirty... piece of cloth, which slightly resembled a sort of uniform.

Cassandra stood petrified for a few minutes, her right hand still on the handle and her eyes wide with surprise. Being an ex-soldier, and a girl with a bit of common sense, she knew she should have been terrified at the sight of the man. After all, he was probably a thief. She should have grabbed one of the knives in her "kitchen" and kicked the lad out of her "house". Her instinct, however, told her otherwise, and she wasn't the kind of girl who ignored her instinct in order to follow rules and common sense. So she did what her instinct told her to do: she crouched in front of the man and tentatively put a hand on his right knee. The man gave a start and lifted his head, staring at her with wide, fearful eyes.

_Grey eyes._

_Bright as silver. Troubled as storm._

_They are watching you. They beg you_

Cassandra gasped, falling backwards and covering her mouth with her hands.

_Two-year-old Cassandra wakes up in her crib in the middle of the night._

_Something is wrong with her daddy's silent room-mate._

_She can feel it._

_Daddy told her not to talk with him, because he is a traitor._

_But he isn't._

_He made a mistake. Everybody does. And he's sorry. So, so sorry._

_Cassandra knows he didn't mean to hurt Daddy. Even Daddy knows, probably. He's just too proud to admit that._

_Now the silent guy is in trouble. She knows that because, despite his mistake, the boy is still part of the pack._

_She should wake up her Daddy and warn him, but he's just fallen asleep and he's tired. _

_So she climbs out of her crib and silently trots out of the room._

_Everything is so dark, and cold, and scary. And Cassandra is so tiny and vulnerable._

_She has never been so terrified before, not even when Mama Wolf told her she would have been thrown in the red well. But she keeps walking, still a bit unsteady on her small legs._

_The ghosts in the castle are murmuring and the paintings on the walls snickering. Cassandra starts crying silently, her little heart pounding frantically in her chest._

_But she doesn't get lost, because she knows she has to follow the lemon, the mint... and the blood._

_Lemon, mint, blood._

_The scent gets stronger and stronger, the ghost fall silent and the pictures stop snickering._

_Only a small sound echoes in the dark corridor of the castle._

_Drip.. Drop... _

_Cassandra falls on the floor, tripping in her own feet. She ignores the pain though. The scent is so strong now.._

_Lemon, mint, blood._

_Lots of blood._

_Drip... drop..._

_Cassandra walks and walks and walks. Then she slips, and falls on the floor, again._

_Lemon, mint, blood._

_Everything is so wet and cold._

_Drip... Drop..._

_The moon rises, and a small jet of light leaks through the large windows of the castle._

_Cassandra tries to get up, but falls again. Everything is so wet and cold..._

_Drip... drop..._

_Cassandra starts crying harder, terrified. Then, something softly touches her little arm._

_Lemon, mint, blood._

_Grey eyes. Bright as silver. Troubled as storm._

_They are watching her, begging her for forgiveness and help. They are so pained, so sad._

_They are filled with tears._

Sirius Black looked at Cassandra, trembling like a deer trapped by a hunter. The girl shifted on the floor, curling up in a ball, her head in her hands.

_A mouth opens, trying to speak. Blood trails down a pale, sunken cheek._

_Drip... Drop..._

_Cassandra touches the cheek with her little hand. It is so cold. _

_The grey eyes close. Tears trail down the cheek, mixing with the blood and soaking Cassandra's little hand._

_Something behind her trembles. _

_The mouth opens again._

_"C...c-"_

Sirius slowly managed to stop shivering, and tentatively sat up straight. He cocked his head curiously, studying the petrified form of his friend's daughter. Cassandra didn't seem to notice him and maintained her odd position.

_The mouth can't speak. There's too much blood._

_Cassandra knows she doesn't have to walk anymore._

_She has found him._

_Sirius._

_There's something wrong with him._

_Cassandra cries and cries and cries._

_Cassandra screams, her sweet voice filled with fear and despair._

_Daddy, daddy, help 'ius!_

_Daddy!_

_Daddy help 'ius!_

_Nobody answers. Cassandra screams louder._

_DADDY HELP 'IUS_

_The candles in the castle suddenly lighten up._

_Someone runs down the corridor._

_Someone talks to her._

_But she doesn't listen. She just lies beside Sirius, scooting closer and lying her head on his chest._

_His heart is still there. Everything will be alright._

Sirius shifted slightly on the cold bathroom floor, worried. Five minutes had passed, and Cassandra still had her head in her hands. Slowly and uncertainly, Padfoot reached out with his hand and softly brushed his fingers against the girl's hair.

_Cassandra opens her eyes, tired like hell but warm and comfortable. She feels a hand gently stroking her hair._

_Mint and Lemon._

_No blood._

_She snuggles further in that warm cocoon, sighing happily. She loves that smell. It is fresh and full of energy. _

_Something shifts behind Cassandra and another hand softly strokes her back._

_Pine, fresh earth and resin._

_Daddy is here._

_Everything will be fine._

Cassandra lifted her head, revealing a pair of tear-filled eyes. Sirius swallowed thickly, his heart filled with a sense of guilt, hurt and fear.

_She is scared of me. She hates me._

The animagus lowered his gaze, bracing himself for the screams and the shouts. Then, something warm and trembling brushed against his cheek. A hand.

Cassandra kept gently touching the man's cheek, her mind dizzy and the lump in her throat almost unbearable. Sirius Black, the man of the mystery, was there, in front of her, for real. Slowly the girl lowered her hand and placed it on the animagus' chest: the flesh was cold but the heart was still there, pounding frantically.

"...C- C..."

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but his voice box didn't want to collaborate. Cassandra didn't seem to notice, though. She was too busy checking if the man's heart was still beating.

He tried again, this time with more success.

"C... Ca..C-Ca.. Cas -sie?"

It was more like a croak rather than a human being's voice, but it was enough for Cassandra's tears to win the battle and trail down her cheeks.

_Little Cassandra wakes up again, this time to the sound of a low, deep chuckle. She is not sleepy anymore, and is curious to know who is laughing. Reluctantly she lifts her head from the warm cocoon._

_"Good morning Cassie"_

_Sirius is lying beside her, holding her in his arms. He looks pale and tired, but he is smiling, and his eyes are sparkling with relief and gratitude. She knows she shouldn't talk to him, but she also knows it would be impolite not to answer, and she doesn't want to wipe away that wonderful smile from the boy's face._

_So she clumsily sits straighter and, with a heart-melting smile, she wraps her chubby arms around the dark-haired boy. Sirius knows that's her favourite form of greeting, he has seen her doing the same thing a thousand times with Moony and Prongs, but that doesn't stop him from feeling his eyes filling with tears. Cringing almost imperceptibly he holds the little girl tightly, burying his nose in her blond locks._

_"It appears our little Maraudrette has found a new best friend, Prongs."_

_Cassie's head shoots up and her smile becomes even brighter. _

_"Daddy!"_

He knew her name. He remembered her. She wanted to talk to him, ask him all the questions that haunted her mind. But something happened, killing the words that were going to escape Cassandra's mouth. Something confusing and bloody terrifying.

_A young man lies in the corner of a tiny, dark and cold room. He is covered in dust, dirt and blood. He shivers and sobs, but no tears trail down his sunken cheeks. He feels so cold, he wants to die._

_A beautiful girl sits on her bed in the middle of the night. She is surrounded by other girls, much older than her, fast asleep and ready to face war. But she isn't. She looks outside the large windows of the dorm: it is a full-moon and she has never felt so lonely before._

_A handsome boy walks down the streets of a small village. His dark hair are held in a ponytail and a short beard emphasizes the brightness of his silver eyes. Those eyes look tired and troubled. His dark grey robes swirl around quickly as he stops the other pedestrians in order to show them a small photo of a smiling girl with ice-green eyes and dark-blond locks._

_A girl marches down an empty, muddy road. It's pouring with rain, but she doesn't care. She is wearing a green uniform with a red cross plastered on her left arm. The visor of her hat covers her eyes. Her pace is quick and intimidating. A gun rests in the case attached to the girl's belt. Her left hand holds a First Aid box. She stops in front of an old, small shack. She opens the door. Her face is blank, but her hearts is in pieces. She takes a small black box outside her pockets. She presses a button and starts talking, with an emotionless, professional voice. "No survivors. I'm going back to the base camp"._

Cassandra was terrified. She didn't understand what was happening in her head, why she suddenly felt a foreign presence attached to her mind, why those terrible scenes about Sirius Black were suddenly filling her mind. It was like having a flashback, but in this case the memories were not.. _hers._ It was impossible. She knew that. She was a doctor, she knew everything about the brain and its tricks! Still, the visions didn't stop, and the only thing Cassandra could do was to wait for that nightmare to end.

_Sirius Black runs in a dark corridor, ducking and trying to shield himself from dozens of colorful jets of light aimed in his way. He jumps behind a fallen beam, only to find that the place is already occupied by a lifeless body covered in blood. Gideon Prewett. The young man shakes his head, trying to ignore the sense of nausea which is quickly building in his chest. Suddenly a heart-shattering scream breaks him out of his reverie. _

_"JAMES"_

_ Sirius hastily scrambles on his feet and runs towards his friend, who is kneeling on the stone floor, twitching in pain and holding his head in his hands. A dark-haired woman stands in front of him, holding a wand. She is laughing her head off. Sirius is beyond furious. That woman is his cousin, and she is torturing his brother in all but blood! He can't lose him too. Suddenly, the dark walls of the corridor start trembling, and the room is filled by a blinding light._

_Everything is exploding. Cassandra runs and runs, jumping dead bodies, hiding behind burning tanks, falling in the mud. Bullets skip her for a couple of inches, some of them scratch her arms and neck, but she doesn't care. She has a mission. Her colleagues need her. She clutches the First Aid kit, and keeps running, despite the pain, despite the panic. On the corner of her eye she sees a British soldier running desperately in the middle of the field. That place is full of mines, he should know that!_

_"STOP! DON'T..." she tries to warn him, but it's too late. A mine explodes and a gigantic mouth of fire and dust swallows the soldier._

Sirius Black was shocked, not by the sudden appearances of Cassandra's memories in his mind - he knew perfectly well the reasons of this phenomenon-, but by _what_ Cassandra's mind was broadcasting.

A soldier? So young? In the Muggle world this shouldn't be possible, or at least that was Lily told him when he asked her about muggle wars. There were rules to follow, armies to join... Children weren't allowed to fight! It was clear that something, or maybe someone, had forced Cassie into that living hell.

_Who could do that to a child?_

Cassandra's memories didn't answer this question, probably because the girl's subconscious was still too wary to share that kind of information. Sighing, the ex-convict tried to swallow his anger and calm his breath in order not to scare Cassandra further.

Slowly, the flow of memories decreased and stopped. They where nothing but short glimpses of a life of suffering and pain, and Cassandra understood less than half of the things that had been showed her. A thing, however, she knew: the man in front of her had actually searched for her. It was a dream coming true, and the girl couldn't help but feeling a deep sense of hope and joy filling her dry soul. Maybe Sirius Black was really trustworthy and her instinct was right, but she needed proofs anyway. And answers. _Lots _of answers.

"... I think... I think I have a few questions", she half-muttered, cursing her voice for sounding so weak and croaked. _I think I have a few questions. _Really? Of all the smart sentences her brain could put together, _ I think I have a few questions?_ What was she, a bloody freshman in front of the University dean?_  
_

Sirius seemed to have a few problems with words too. After a few minutes spent opening and closing his mouth in vain, the man finally managed to get a grip and croak:

"I... I c-can answer. I.. I s-swear. I j-jus-st n...need t-time to... t-o e..e-ex..plain" God. Eleven words, and he was already exhausted. Taking a huge breath he forced himself to continue: "Y-you... you'd-d b-bet-ter... t-tell y-y-your bb-boss you... you're ill and you.. won't be a-able to g-go to the ha... the had-r-r... dware s..shop. It... it will be e-e-easier th..this w-way".

Cassandra hastily got up, ready to bolt to the telephone in the block of flats' hall. After a few steps, however, she stopped on her tracks.

"Wait... How do you know where..."

Then, looking around she noticed that something was still missing.

"... Where is my dog?!"

Cassandra narrowed her eyes, warily looking at Sirius. The man sheepishly scrubbed the back of his head, and his joints cracked soundly when he got up from the floor.

"Well, I... I... I don't a...ac- actually think there is a...a w-way to explain this to you, so I-I think I'll just show you, ok?". Not waiting for a response, the animagus took a deep breath and turned into a big yet skinny black dog.

Cassandra stumbled backwards, her face a clear show of surprise and confusion.

_What. The. HELL._

It couldn't be a trick. She had literally seen Sirius' limbs morph into paws... and.. fur... and tail...

_What._

_The._

_HELL._

The dog happily waggled his tail a few times before turning human again. The whole process sort of pulled a dark corner in Cassandra's mind, but, fortunately, no memory invaded her mind.

The girl opened and closed her mouth once and twice, desperate to say something.

"Ok. Oook. So. You are... and he was... Ok. I... I think I r-really have to... to tell my boss... that I'll stay at home for a while. Yes. I really have to. Ok. You... You stay _here. _I go. It will take... a few minutes. Not more than that. So. You stay _here_ and... and I go. _Here."_

Sirius had to chew his own cheeks in order to prevent laughing. She was just completely flabbergasted... It was rather sweet. And hilarious. But sweet too.

Cassandra practically bolted down the five flights of stairs which separated her from the phone. She must have looked particularly messed up, because her landlord didn't bother her with the rent and her boss didn't argue with her too much. After getting two days off work, the girl ran as quickly as she could to her flat.

Sirius was still there, in the bathroom, gripping the sink with one hand and nervously playing with his "uniform" with the other. He immediately looked at her, and she could see that hope and fear were reflecting in his stormy eyes.

Cassandra stared at the dog-man-whatever in front of her for a while, then lowered her gaze to the floor, suddenly finding her bare foot particularly interesting. She didn't know where to start with the questions. Sirius felt her confusion and decided to spare her further headaches. Thank God, his voice was now almost normal.

"Well... C-considering the face you made when I transformed I suppose you don't know anything about your origins, do you?"

Cassandra shifted uncomfortably, leaning slightly against the door frame for support. She had managed to forget about her leg for a while, but now it hurt like hell.

"I... uhm... I didn't remember anything from my past until a few months ago, apart from my name and age. The nun at the orphanage... she... she told my foster family I had been probably abandoned by a group of gypsies or a thing like that, because I was wearing strange clothes..."

Sirius was immediately hit by an image of a little girl covered in dust and wearing a pair of large, flowery trousers and a yellow T-shirt, sitting all alone in the dark in front of a huge muggle building. He felt guilt constricting his chest, but he tried to ignore the sensation. He tiredly scrubbed his face with his hands and tried to step forward, only to sway dangerously. Without thinking, Cassandra immediately run by his side to help him, but he held a hand to stop her.

"Don't... Don't worry. I'm fine. I just... I just h-have to get used not to walk on a-a-all fours". He half smirked at the confession, and the girl couldn't help but chuckle. _God, it feels like I've been thrown in a Samuel Beckett's play. _

Awkwardly, the strange couple made their way towards the other room of the flat. Sirius managed to reach the pillow on which he usually slept in his dog form and dropped on it unceremoniously, his legs shaking with the effort and his head spinning. Cassandra filled two glasses with orange juice, the tea completely forgotten, and took a box of hypercaloric chocolate cookies. She then grabbed a pillow herself and sat down Indian style in front of the ex-convict.

"Here - she muttered- it looks like you could use a proper breakfast". Sirius stared at the biscuits in awe for a couple of seconds, then took one of the cookies out of the box and hesitantly took a bit. They were delicious. He ate one, then two, then three biscuits, only to be stopped by the girl in front of him.

"Wait! I mean... You... you shouldn't eat so fast... you are... you are sort of half-starved and you may be sick if you fill your stomach all of a sudden..."

Sirius quickly dropped the fifth biscuits, looking terribly ashamed.

_Idiot. She gives you food and you thank her by eating like a pig. _

She smiled at him reassuringly and replaced the juice with water.

"Maybe a bit of water will help you swallow the bakery you have just eaten... Just... take small sips, ok?"

The man took the glass, blushing slightly. He felt like a retarded. Cassandra probably caught his expression, because she hurriedly started speaking about her flashbacks, hoping to distract Sirius from his current physical condition.

"So... As I said, I grew up thinking I was an abandoned gypsy. I did never truly believed this story, though. I sort... I sort of knew that my father would never abandon me... I never thought about my mother, I don't know why. Then, a couple of months ago... An incident occured. I came out of it alive but pretty badly injured, and since that night I've been haunted by nightmares. Well, a nightmare, actually.. In this dream I am four or five years old and I am wandering through the streets of a destroyed town near a train station. The sky is clouded and strange shots of light flash everywhere. I am crying, and calling for... for my father. Initially I thought it was a reaction to the shock of the incident, but... It felt so _real._..."

She looked up to see Sirius staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Her heart, however, could clearly feel the sadness and the guilt radiating from the man's soul.

"Cassie... You are right. That... that is not just a dream, that's a real memory. But before I go on and explain what that scene means, I have to ask: do you remember anything else?"

Cassandra frowned, distractedly playing with a string of her sweater. Sirius knew that the answer was yes, he had seen her lost in those trances and he had seen some flashes of her flashbacks . However, he needed to hear the whole story, so he waited.

"I... I have flashbacks. Quite often, actually. Well, I don't know if they are real flashbacks, because... they are _weird_. I mean... Oh, you'll think I am completely crazy..."

"Darling, I am an escaped convict who can turn into a dog. In your eyes _I_ should be the perfect example of craziness."

Cassandra chuckled lightly, a bit more relaxed.

"Ok... So... I've sort of written down all the most significant visions I had... Here. The first one I had was about a huge room with this wicked ceiling... I... don't even know how to explain it, but it didn't seem even a proper ceiling... It was like watching the sky at midnight. I heard a voice, probably my father's one, which stated that the room was called "Great Hall"..."

Cassandra went on describing her flashbacks, and Sirius listened carefully, feeling relief wash through his veins. The situation wasn't so dramatic, after all: she remembered quite a lot of things, although she apparently had some problems with faces and names. He only had to explain that magic existed and how it worked, then filling the gaps would be quite easy.

When Cassandra finished her report, the girl was still averting Sirius' gaze.

"I... I don't remember you. I mean, before I saw you in the bathroom and that strange thing happened... I knew that you were a part of my life before I was adopted... I knew you were one of my father's friends... But it was just a feeling, not a memory. Despite this fact, my instinct tells me I can trust you, and... I don't know... I don't even know exactly who you are, but when I saw your face... God, everything's so messed up!" With that, the girl buried her head in her hands, groaning.

Swallowing the last bit of his sixth biscuit, Sirius tentatively placed a hand on Cassandra's left knee.

"Cassandra... Cassie... look at me, please". The ex-soldier reluctantly complied,finally showing her huge green eyes.

" I'm ... I'm going to explain and answer to all your questions, I promise. Just... don't let your education or beliefs influence your trust in what I am going to tell you, ok?" the girl nodded and unconsciously leaned closer, eager to complete the complicated puzzle of her life.

"Good. Now, first of all... All the "strangest" things you saw in your dreams or visions... they are not a trick of your imagination, you are not hallucinating: everything you saw is real and really happened."

Cassandra expression could only described as dejected.

"But... how? There are definitely no technologies which could allow..."

"What.. what did I just told you? Forget your education and your habits for a bit. Forget what you learned in school or what your foster family t-told you" Sirius's tone was calm but firm, and Cassandra couldn't help but obey.

"Now, think about a possible explanation to this phenomena which does not involve any, and I repeat _any_ of the things you learned in the past thirteen years".

Cassandra opened her mouth to answer, but the words didn't come out. She knew the answer, it was exactly what she had suspected in the last months. Still, that _couldn't _be possible. It was too much.

Sirius felt her confusion and internal struggle, and tried to smile at her reassuringly.

The girl clenched her jaw and almost forced the words to leave her voice box.

"The... the only explanation could be that those... those phenomena were the result of some sort of... of m-magic, but..."

This time Sirius' chapped lips turned in a broad smile.

"exactly! _Magic._ I know, at the moment your mind is rejecting this word with all its strength, but I assure you that magic is the answer to most of your question. After all, how could I possibly turn into a dog if I wasn't a wizard?"

Cassandra's eyes were, if possible, even bigger than usual.

_Magic._

_MAGIC._

_Yep. definitely a Samuel's Beckett comedy._

_No, no, Cassandra. Sirius is right: it is the only explanation. That, or you are completely mad. _

_Maybe.._

_No. _

Tiredly, Cassandra rubbed her temples, frowning and closing her eyes.

"Do you... Can you prove this? I mean, ok, apparently you can turn into a dog... And there are no doubts that what has happened in the last months is strange to say the least... But... It may still be a trick of my head. Maybe I am all alone in my apartment talking to my damn wall... Maybe the incident really messed up with my mind..."

Sirius sighed. This girl was just as stubborn as her father.

"At the moment I can't cast any spell. I-I'm too weak, and I haven't got a wand with me, anyway... However, I suppose you are looking for proofs _outside_ this apartment, aren't you?"

_Spell._

_Wand._

_Oh, dear._

"Yep".

"Ok... I would.. send you to Diagon Alley, but you don't have a wand, so you couldn't enter the town... Unless..."

Suddenly, Sirius' eyes brightened. Cassandra could almost hear the wheels in his brain working.

"I got it! O-ok, you have to walk down Charing Cross road ... until you reach Charing Cross Books. Cross the street: you'll find a small, rather plain door which other people do not seem to notice. Do not open the door. You would find yourself in a wizard pub and you would attract too much attention, being a foreign an so on.. Move ... 15 steps to the right: you'll find a really small alley, almost too narrow for you to walk. you have to go into the alley and reach the end of it. It will be dark, but you won't need your eyesight, a-anyway. You just have to touch the walls around you. There is a spot which recognizes magic..t- touch. Once you'll reach it, it will gleam and the floor will open under your feet. You'll land in another alley. Go out of it and... Just look around. I think that will be enough proof for now."

Cassandra stared at Sirius, her mouth wide open.

"You... are you..."

"S-serious? Always, dear."

The girl snorted in amusement and disbelief, but got up to her feet anyway. She grabbed a biscuit and got ready to visit that Dia-something.


	7. 15 Steps

**Author's Note:**

**Hi Everyone! **

**God... I haven't published a new chapter in ****_weeks_****. I am so sorry... I promise that from now on I will try to update more regularly!**

**RMoors, Naflower05... What can I say... You are the best! Really! Thank you so much for the reviews!**

**I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. It's FULL of magic and introspection, with a tiny flashback in the middle. **

**Diagon Alley, here we are!**

* * *

Skirt or jeans? that was the question. For the first time in... well, ever, Cassandra Lupin didn't know what to wear. Probably this had to do with the fact that she was getting ready to have a tour in a supposedly magic Alley hidden somewhere in London. Or maybe she was just a tiny bit nervous for the presence of a skinny, ill-looking escaped convict who was awkwardly sitting on a pillow in a corner of her flat.

Sirius Black. The man should have given her some answers, but at the moment, the teenager felt just more confused than ever. He stated that magic did exist with an easiness that freaked the girl out. Maybe he was mad. Maybe _she_ was mad, and that was the most likely hypothesis since she had just seen the man turning into her beloved Doggie.

Cassandra kept rummaging into her cartoon boxes, increasingly frustrated with her own anxiety and doubts. She had to get a grip and follow Sirius' instruction, not act like some bloody hysteric teenage girl. She was a soldier, and in the past two years she had to do stranger things. Well, maybe not stranger, but certainly more frightening.

_Cool, Cassandra. Deal with this situation as if it was some sort of mission. You are going to infiltrate in some kind of magic place... _

_God, this is ridiculous._

_Shut up. SO... Magic place... that means magic people... How do magic people behave? I can't let them know I have no clue about their world._

_Technically it's your world too._

_Details. So, I have to blend in with these people. This means... skirt? Maybe. Hell, this is more difficult than I thought._

After a few minutes of deep internal struggle, Cassandra gave up and decided to ask for some advice.

"So... Those witches and wizards... They are like other people, right?"

Sirius frowned, confused by the question. What did she mean? Of course they were like other people.

"Ehr... O-of course... It's not that we have two heads or something..."

Cassandra looked up from the box, arching an eyebrow questioningly. The animagus couldn't help but noticing the similarities to Professor McGonagall's scolding expression.

"I didn't mean that. It's just that, since you said I should try to keep a low profile, I think I have to know a bit more about, you know, clothes, habits..."

Sirius' eyes widened in realization. The girl was right. Walking down the Alley wearing muggle jeans and a top, especially if you were covered in quite suspicious scars, could attract the attention of the magic population. Not that wizards and witches weren't used to muggle clothing, the problem was that Cassandra look definitely too old to be a Hogwarst muggleborn student and her appearance wasn't exactley plain, so people would soon notice that she was a stranger, a potentially dangerous stranger. Moreover, despite having been considered officially dead for at least twelve years, Hogwarst teachers would certainly recognize her stunning eyes and wouldn't hesitate to try and approach the girl. Sirius couldn't allow that. First of all, Cassandra would be enough shocked by the sight of the Alley, she certainly didn't need to be overwhelmed by questions. Secondly, Sirius needed Cassandra: the thought that she could abandon him to follow other wizards or witches was unbearable.

"Right... uhm... well, in.. in t-the wizarding world witches... witches don't wear trousers, not tight blue jeans at least. They prefer long skirts, dresses or... ehr.. you know... those drop crotch harem pants... I... I don't k-know if things have changed, though. It's been a while since I've been in our world."

Cassandra looked at him with a blank expression, then frowned a bit.

"Yep. That's one of the questions I have for you, actually. But it can wait... for now." She then returned to her rummaging, finally opting for her famous colorful skirt and a white blouse with long, semitransparent bishop sleeves. Before she could hide in the bathroom to get dressed, however, Sirius' hesitant voice echoed again in the small room.

"Ehr... If I were in you, I would also wear a pair of sunglasses and... maybe.. a patch on your cheek."

"A patch? What, witches and wizards are not used to the sight of a disfigured girl?"

Sirius winced at the harsh tone Cassandra used. He didn't mean that, of course. No scar could ever disfigure Cassandra's wonderful face.

"I didn't mean that... l-look I...I can't explain that to you. Not now, at least. Just... just note that those aren't normal scars, every wizard with a bit of common sense could see that. Don't show them."

Still a bit annoyed by his remark, but increasingly curious to understand what he meant with "normal" scars, Cassandra huffed:

"I didn't plan to. Now if you excuse me..."

Once in the bathroom Cassandra quickly got rid of her camisole and pyjama bottoms and put on the skirt. She pointedly avoided the mirror, not wanting to see the monster she had become. While lacing the strings of the blouse, however, she accidentally caught a glimpse of her reflection.

She looked like a walking dead.

Sighing, the girl put a white patch on her scarred cheek and grabbed a pair of black sunglasses. Maybe Sirius didn't mean to offend her with his advice, but it still hurt her already low self-esteem.

_What a great start. _

After "fixing" her face, Cassandra looked at her hair. It was messy and ruffled, a pale shadow of the wavy, glossy locks which once adorned her head. Resisting the urge to grab a pair of scissors and get rid of that blond mop, the girl managed to gather her hair in a low tress.

Out of the bathroom the girl tried not to meet Sirius' gaze and grabbed a small brown satchel, already full with her half-empty purse and some emergency medicines. When she finally turned to talk to the animagus, Cassandra found the man staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

"What? Not hidden enough for your taste? I can always wear a carton box on my head, you know. I'm sure that in this way nobody will notice me." Cassandra bit her lip, frowning: she didn't mean to sound so bitter and angry. Before Sirius could open his mouth to reply, she waved her hand dismissively, adding:

"Sorry... I know you didn't want to offend me, but you can't tell a girl to hide her scarred face and expect her to be happy... You'll have to explain a lot of things, Sirius Black. Now, do I look like a witch?"

With that, the girl open her arms in a theatrical way, half-smirking.

Yes. She definitely looked like a witch. A quite stunning one too.

"You... you are perfect. God, If only Remus could see you now..."

Cassandra tilted her head curiously. "Who's Remus?"

Sirius looked at her with sad eyes.

"R-Remus... Remus is your father's name, Cassandra. Remus Lupin".

Oh.

Cassandra blushed and swallowed thickly, nodding almost imperceptibly. When she opened her mouth to speak, what came out was barely audible.

"I... I always tried to remember his name, in vain, of course. Remus Lupin... it doesn't ring any bell, you know? It's not like your pictures as a convict... It feels... empty."

Curious.

As an Auror, Sirius Black had to deal with victims of horrible crimes. Most of them suffered from various grades of amnesia, usually due to the shock. Some of them forgot only the few hours before the attack, others had a black out which covered a couple of days. The younger victims could erase their whole short life from their memories, a sort of coping system if the trauma was too big to bear. Initially, the Animagus had thought that Cassandra belonged to this last category, but something was off... In fact, those children tended to immediately recognize their parents and remember their names, probably because their bond was really strong. Before her disappearance, the ex-soldier almost _worshipped_ Remus, he should have been the first memory to come back to her mind. Instead, Cassandra still didn't remember his face, let alone his name. It was just like the mental image of his father had been torn off her brain...

Fighting dizziness and exhaustion, Sirius got up from the floor and approached Cassandra, coming to stand in front of her. An awful idea was slowly making its way in his brain, and he needed to verify it. Placing his hands on Cassandra's shoulders, the man whispered:

"Cassie... In your nightmare... did you meet anybody? Did anybody talked to you?"

Cassandra flinched slightly, a bit put out by the sudden contact. Nobody had hugged her or held her like this for a long time. Trying to ignore the urge to run away, the girl concentrated on the dream.

"No... The only human beings I saw were those scary hooded figures, a dead girl... Oh."

_A man approaches you. He says: "Come with me, we'll find your dad"._

" There was this boy... I... couldn't see him well, but I knew him. He was dressed like those scary figures, but he wasn't wearing a mask. He... he approached me and... and said he could bring me to D-dad". Sirius stared at the girl, dread freezing his limbs. Cassandra struggled to keep her composure, despite the angry tears that threatened to escape from her eyes. She wouldn't weep in front of Sirius Black. Not again, at least.

" I didn't trust him. I think... I think he did something to my Dad, but I don't remember what. Anyway, I didn't want to follow him, deep inside me I knew there was something wrong in his words... But I was so scared. I couldn't find Dad, despite having searched for him everywhere... So I trusted the man and took his hand. He... drew that stick... his _wand_ and muttered something..."

_Oh, God._

"W- what did he said?" Sirius' heart was racing, his blood running cold.

"Ehr... A strange word... Obliviate! That's it. Then, everything went blank and the nightmare ended".

Sirius Black dropped his arms by his sides, taking a few steps backwards. That was it. A memory spell performed on a child. Cassandra was lucky to be alive and mentally healthy. Anger filled the escaped convict heart, and the same question popped in his head.

_Who could do that to a child?_

After all, he shouldn't have been so shocked: that man cassandra's described was a Death Eater, and Sirius Black knew very well that those kind of people could do anything, to everybody. Still.

Cassandra looked at him, confused and a bit scared by his reaction.

"Is that... is that a bad word? If it is, I'm sorry..."

Sirius sighed: there was no use in trying to explain the meaning of that spell to her now. She needed to believe in magic first.

"You really need to see Diagon Alley. The situation is more difficult than I thought, and you'll need all the proofs necessary. Be very careful, Cassandra, and don't talk to anybody. Please... Please be safe and come back here as soon as you can".

_Be safe._ Cassandra was pretty sure nobody ever said that to her, not in the last thirteen years at least. A small part of her was a bit annoyed at the lack of trust the man in front of her was showing. It was a really tiny part, though. Mostly, Cassandra felt her heart melting at the sincere concern Sirius Black was conveying through his stunning eyes. She smiled, arching an eyebrow.

"Don't worry. I know a few tricks that will make me invisible". She then made to grab her crutch, but hesitated.

"Mmmmh... Do wizards use crutches?"

Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Yes... but they are a bit different from that one. Maybe in twelve years they changed them, but I can't be sure".

Cassandra sighed, unconsciously massaging her stump. Fortunately enough, Charing Cross wasn't too far from her apartment, and this time she didn't have to carry a big black dog up and down London. However, her wound had reopened twice after the incident with Doggie/Sirius, and her flesh just couldn't bear another laceration.

" Oh, well...I can't take the risk to walk without this, not now. I don't care what your magic friends may think. Well, I'm off... Let's see if I'm utterly mad or the mass murderer here really told the truth". With that she grabbed the keys and got out of the flat, not before flashing Sirius a wolfish, mischievous grin.

* * *

Cassandra followed Sirius' instructions step by step. She walked down Charing Cross and stopped in front of Charing Cross Book.

_That's it. If I don't find the door Sirius told me about, I go straight to the nearest hospital and I ask for a psychiatrist._

Taking a deep breath, Cassandra turned around, coming to face the opposite side of the street.

_Oh, my..._

The door was there, small and plain as the escaped convict described it. Above it swung a wooden banner with the signature "Leaky Cauldron" on it.

Cassandra hurriedly crossed the street, almost getting run over by a truck. Under the writing there was the drawing of a Cauldron filled with some boiling liquid. The liquid was boiling _for real_, with bubbles floating around the small banner. Cassandra stared at it for a few minutes before being interrupted by a push which almost threw her on the concrete.

"What the..."

The girl, however, couldn't finish her sentence, because she was too busy taking in the appearance of the stranger who had just pushed her in order to enter... The Leaky Cauldron. The person in question was tall and had a huge beard gathered in many little tresses. He was wearing an outdated, dark purple velvet suit and his hands were filled with huge golden rings. He didn't even spare a glance to the stunned girl he had just run over and quickly entered the pub. In the left pocket of his suit was stuffed a black wand.

The ex-soldier stood there frozen for a few minutes. Living in a huge city like London she was used to seeing odd people walking down the streets with colorful garments and interesting hair... Most of the street spirits she knew were like that, and she herself wasn't exactly a lover of plain, "normal" clothes and accessories. Several piercings adorned both of her earlobes, although war made her lose the habit of wearing earrings, and a huge wolf howling at the moon covered most of her back. Not to mention the flying phoenix which wrapped its flaming tail around her right arm. All in all, Cassandra was pretty keen on oddities, so the strange outfit of the old man wasn't the problem. What freaked her out was the thought that maybe, just maybe, some of the street spirits she knew, some of the weirdoes and outcasts she used to see around the city...Maybe they weren't so lonely and abandoned after all. Maybe they where happy wizards and witches taking a quiet stroll in London... Was it possible? Was it possible that she, the smart, cunning Cassandra Lupin hadn't been able to recognize magic? She felt like the stupid, blind, superficial and snobbish girls Colonel Wilkins admired so much. The though made her want to kick herself.

_Concentrate, Cassandra. 15 steps to the right..._

Despite her previous musings, the girl couldn't help but feeling ridiculous. 15 steps weren't much, and she could clearly see that there was nothing like a narrow alley on the right of that pub. For some reason, however, she kept following Sirius' instructions.

_One_

_Two.._

Her heartbeat was frantic and her right hand gripped the crutch tightly. Those were the longest 15 steps of her life.

_Thirteen.._

_Fourteen..._

_Fifteen._

A wall. A white, plain, quite dirty wall. No alleys. Cassandra felt her heart sinking in her chest. For a few hours she had really hoped that magic was real and her family was there, in that mysterious world, waiting for her to come back home. Instead, there she was, standing in front of a wall, alone as always and mad as a hatter.

Just when the ex-soldier made to return to her tiny flat, however, something appeared on the plain wall.

_Welcome back, Miss Cassandra._

_"_What the hell...", Cassandra stopped on her tracks, staring at the sign in awe. The small sentence was written in elegant, elaborated golden letters which glittered in the light of that sunny morning. Forgetting immediately about her long training in the Army, the girl threw all her common sense in the bin and reached out to touch the sentence. As soon as her finger brushed the rough surface of the wall the sentence disappeared and new letters morphed in the white background.

_Thirteen long years have passed. I was afraid you would never notice me._

"What... what are y-you?" _I am really talking to a wall. The irony of fate._

_I am The Wall of Magic, dear. Messer Padfoot, Prongs, Moony and Wormtail created me a long time ago purposely to help the next generation of Marauders in their adventures and escapades. _

Padfoot? Moony? Wormtail? Prongs? She remembered vaguely some of those names from her visions and guessed that they were the nicknames of her father and his friends, but her knowledge ended there. Who were the Marauders?

_Miss Cassandra, the mischevious Maraudrette, the clever daughter of Messer Moony, doesn't know who the Marauders are?! That's an outrage! That's a scandal!_

Oh. She had talked out loud. And offended the wall. Bad Cassie.

"S-sorry I... I didn't mean to offend you... It's just that.. uh... I've been away from a long time, and... Anyway, I was sent here to enter Diagon Alley without being noticed, and... ehr..."

_Who sent you here? Messer Moony?_

So Moony was her father. What a strange nickname.

"No... I was sent here by..."

Damn. She couldn't make Sirius Black's name, not in a street crowded with people...

"Ehr... you know... That guy... Black hair, grey eyes... he can ... turn into a... dog..."

_Ah, Messer Padfoot! He used to come here from time to time to have a chat with this poor wall... Handsome boy, I may say. How is he doing? I haven't heard of him for twelve years._

Duh. Maybe he was a bit busy rotting in a cell.

"He... uhm.. Is.. fine. I think. Listen, Miss... Miss Wall, even though I would love to have a chat with you, I really have to enter the Alley, so... Could you please let me see the rest of the passage? Please..."

_Umph.. How could I deny something to the mischievous Maraudrette, the Princess of all Marauders, the Heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Pranks and Incomparable Awesomeness? You only have to promise me a small thing..._

Was Cassandra really going to bargain with a wall? Apparently yes.

"What... What should I do?" The girl looked around nervously. She had been talking to the wall for at least a dozen of minutes, and she was a bit worried that somebody could notice her and call the police. However, nobody seemed to care about the colorful, weird teenager, so she returned to her odd conversation.

_Oh, nothing much, dear. If you could simply keep away the stray dogs from here, I would be eternally grateful. Those mutts think I am a public toilet._

... It made sense, in a very strange way.

"Ehr... Deal?". As soon as the word left Cassandra's lips, the pavement under her started trembling and, slowly, a crack formed in the previously intact wall. Soon pieces of plaster crumbled on the ground and the building in front of her was split in half by some unknown force.

After a few minutes, an incredibly narrow alley was there, waiting for a very stunned Cassandra Lupin.

_Ooooooh dear._

Ignoring her trembling limbs, the ex- soldier made her way towards the end of the alley. Sirius was right: it was almost impossible to walk through that passage, and Cassandra had to pray any God she knew not to get stuck between the two walls. It didn't help the fact that two years of war had provided Cassandra with a dozen of possible attacks and incidents that could occur in narrow spaces, so the girl was slightly claustrophobic: not that she was going to have a panick attack or something, but she was certainly eager to get out of that bloody place. Finally, just as the darkness had become almost unbearable and the walls began to constrict Cassandra's chest, her right hand brushed against a cold, rough surface.

"Thank God..." . Tentatively, the girl stretched her hand in order to lay it completely on the wall. What happened then was destined to determine permanently Cassandra's love for the magical world.

Small strings of a bluish, delicate light gathered around the profile of Cassandra's hand, crawling on her skin and lazily drawing a complicated, marbled pattern on her arm. It was beautiful. Other sparks of light came to lighten the dark alley, dancing around the girl like small, ethereal fairies and reflecting their shimmering profile on her big, wide eyes. Those strange beings lazily floated towards the wall, leaving behind them a thin silver contrail. Cassandra watched in fascination as the fairies melted as soon as they touched the wall, creating the picture of a big, dangerous-looking dog.

_Sirius._

The dog looked at her for a few seconds before padding slowly out of the wall. He approached Cassandra and studied her appearance, sniffing for any unusual scent. He was silent and airy, just like a ghost, and his paws left silver sparkling prints every time they touched the ground. The ex-soldier was fascinated by his elegance and regality, and couldn't help but wish she could touch the soft-looking, bluish fur of the fairy animal. In no time the dog finished his inspection and jumped again in the wall, sitting in front of the girl. He spared her another quick look before throwing back his head and howling silently.

Suddenly, Cassandra was falling. Forgetting about Sirius' previous advice, the girl couldn't help but screaming and twitching, trying to find a way to stop her fall. The sense of peace and warmth the dog had filled her with was soon replaced by panic. Everything was so dark, she felt like precipitating in the outer space. Fortunately enough, the descent was fairly short, and soon the girl landed on the ground with a loud _thud_.

"Ouch...". Cassandra lied on the ground for a few minutes, trying to make her head stop spinning. If magic means of transport were always like that, she would gladly keep taking the bus. After a while, she finally gathered enough strength to reach a sitting position, groaning loudly as her joint cracked soundly with each movement. Blinking a few times to adapt to the light, the girl looked around.

She was in another empty alley, certainly brighter and broader than the previous one, but still a plain, empty alley. Looking down, Cassandra noticed that the ground was different from the typical London concrete pavement: it was made of large, flat, sandy stones, and gave to the surrounding environment a welcoming, warm air. Not able to hide her curiosity anymore, Cassandra got up on her feet, trying to fix her crumpled clothes and grabbing the crutch, which had fallen a couple of feet far from her. Suddenly, the sound of happy chattering and distant laughs caught her attention and she turned around, coming to face the exit of the alley.

Slowly and wary, Cassandra made her way towards the source of those sounds, her mind shifting continuously between a state of utter fascination and cold alertness. When she reached the end of the alley, her heart stopped.

It was like a gingerbread village. Houses and small shops were crammed together on each side of a broad, long street crowded with people. The roofs of the buildings were pointed, colorful, and reached different heights, giving to the small town an air of cheerful mess. The walls were colorful too and had exposed beams, reminding Cassandra of Shakespeare and his wonderful plays. Each window and balcony was adorned with luxuriant flowers and plants and a strange kind of shimmering violet ivy covered most of the houses.

It was wonderful. It felt like home.

Careful not to display her surprise and wonder, Cassandra slowly wandered through the Alley, drinking each detail of the magical place. She tried her best not to look like a stranger. It was a trick she had learned in war: if you look confident enough in a certain environment, nobody will notice you. As a consequence, she quietly limped down the street, a calm and small smile gracing her lips. Thankfully her choice of outfit proved to be rather appropriate: as Sirius had said, nobody in the Alley was wearing a pair of jeans or a track suit, apart from some children who were looking around with an expression of stunned surprise and happiness. Most of the older women wore long dresses which clearly resembled the 1800 English or even Medieval fashion, whereas the younger ones could be seen in colorful, gypsy-like garments. On the other hand, both men and boys were wearing odd-looking suits or coats, although most of the youngsters had took off their jacket not to suffocate in the bright sun of mid- August.

Sirius was right: wizards and witches didn't have any particular physical characteristic and looked perfectly normal, apart from their odd outfits. There were some individuals, however, who could be considered particularly… weird. Actually, Cassandra didn't think they were human at all. There was an old-looking "man" who had half face covered in shining green scales and had long slimy tentacles instead of hands and fingers. Talking in a corner with a really short person, a young … woman laughed musically, showing her long, pointed, bright blue teeth to the whole alley. Not far from them a chubby-looking boy was trying to drag a huge tank filled with water in which a… _siren_ was swimming peacefully, waving at the pedestrians and grinning in a quite devilish way.

Cassandra stopped in front of the shop the chubby man was trying to reach: it was an animal shop. Sort of. It was pretty large but the tonnes of cages which were piled on every inch of the floor made it quite difficult to enter the place. The girl couldn't tear her gaze off the strange creatures which populated the cages: fluorescent salamanders, two-headed snakes…

_Owls._

_Lots and lots of fluffy grey owls quietly hoot on the perches of a stony cold room._

_Little Cassandra likes the owls. They are funny and have big eyes. _

_Cassandra wants to reach the owls and touch their soft feathers. She knows they won't bite her, because animals love her, apart from the big bad Alpha, of course._

_The small child lifts her chubby arms, but the perches are too high. Her big green eyes fill with tears, but she doesn't cry. _

_"What's the matter Cassie?"_

_That voice. That wonderful, deep voice. The tears disappear, the heart finds its peace._

_"Daddy… Help me?"_

_Suddenly, Cassandra's feet leave the ground and she giggles, safely held in her father's embrace._

_Pine and fresh earth. The scents of the forest._

_"Alright, here we are Cub. Do you want to say hi to the owls?"_

_More giggles. Cassandra is happy._

_"Yeah! Big white owl!"_

_Cassandra feels her Dad's chest rumble with a soft chuckle as he approaches the bird._

_"This, Cassie, is a barn owl…"_

_The little girl pats the owl's head with her small hand, making him hoot happily. Unlike most of the child of her age, Cassandra never hurts the animals she touches._

_"Hi ba'n owl. You're funny!"_

Cassandra stumbled backwards, almost knocking over a cart full of dead bats.

Her head was spinning painfully, she had to gather all her strength not to fall on the ground.

It was too much.

It was wonderful, but it was too much.

Her brain was frozen.

She needed to…

Sit.

She needed to sit.

And think.

And… And sit.

Slowly, leaning on her crutch more than necessary, the girl made her way towards a purple bench just outside the animal shop. She sat down carefully, trying not to convey her sudden tiredness and confusion. Her expression didn't change, and thankfully the sunglasses covered her now closed eyes.

_Ok, Cassandra, turn on that pretty scientific brain of yours and think._

_First of all, magic is real. _

_Maybe it's just an allucination…_

_No. You have a good imagination, but it's not so good._

_Ok._

_Magic is real. And when you were a baby you lived in a magic world._

_Cool._

_And you are magic. Because the… the wall recognised you, so you are magic._

_Cooler._

_You're magic, but… How?_

_That's another question for our dear Sirius. _

_Ok._

_Magic is real._

_Wow._

_And you didn't notice._

_Nope._

_Stupid. Stupidstupidstupid._

Cassandra spent at least half an hour on the bench with her eyes closed, trying to calm her nerves. Fortunately, people were definitely too busy with their shopping to notice the unnaturally stiff girl.

Yes, Cassandra was stunned, but she had been trained to recover quickly from huge shocks too. Her brain knew that her current behavior was dangerous. She was letting her calm mask slip from her face, soon everybody would have been able to see her fear and excitement. She had to get a grip, as usual, even though at the moment she was fought between the urge to run around the Alley touching and watching everything and the need to find her Dad and hide in his embrace. She had to get up and keep walking, gathering all the information she could about that strange place. It was easy, after all. If only she could convince her leg and a half to move...

Finally, her limbs decided to collaborate, and the girl was on her feet again, her back straight and her shoulders squared.

_No emotions._

_No expressions._

_Just walk, look and go home._

She didn't know the time, but she didn't care. She simply went on wandering through the alley, studying the strange people around her, listening to their conversations, admiring the shops and the stands of with odd, interesting objects and creatures. All in all, Cassandra had to admit that she was in her element: she had always been eager to learn more and more things, and now she had the opportunity to study and discover the mysteries of a whole universe!

When she finally found the bookshop, Cassandra felt like Heaven had opened its doors and thousands of angels had started singing. For the first time since she entered Diagon Alley the girl dared to enter a shop, and this time she couldn't help but grinning madly.

As any other building in the village, Flourish and Botts was wonderfully messy and crammed with items. Near the shop window there was a huge case full with… angry… furry… books? Curious, Cassandra approached the case tilting her head and observing as two volumes fought against each other, growling and biting like a pack of angry wolves. The girl chuckled lightly, finding the whole scene quite amusing, even if a bit macabre. Moving on, Cassie strolled through the shelves, reading the titles of the huge, ancient-looking volumes and brushing her fingers on the thick covers from time to time.

_Merlin: the full history of the wizard who changed everything._

_My life with Dragons._

_The art of Healing: the use of herbs and potions through history_

Healing. Cassandra picked the book from the bookshelf and opened it, flipping the pages with a fascinated expression. She felt like an historian in the middle of an ancient library: the pages were thin and delicate, adorned with elegant miniatures. The volume was filled with names of potions, mysterious ingredients and unknown herbs, and everything was described with the help of detailed, colourful and_ moving _pictures. The girl looked around and, noticing that the owner of the shop was busy with a customer, quietly sat on the floor, her gaze still glued to the old volume. Apart from the beauty and the magic of the object itself, Cassandra was eager to learn something about the "art of healing" too. After all, she was a doctor with a never-ending passion for her job, despite the Colonel's attempts to make her hate it. She wanted to save people, and this "new" medicine offered a completely point of view regarding the healing process. She wanted to buy the book, and was already rummaging in her satchel in order to find her purse when she caught some parts of the conversation between the owner of the shop and his customer.

"So… We have here all the new books for Hogwarst second years… It's 50 galleons"

galleons? What the hell was a galleon? Cassandra peeked from behind the shelf, noticing a young boy giving a bunch of big golden coins to the owner of the shop.

_Oh… A different currency. Wonderful… I suppose I'll have to ask Sirius about those "galleons" too…_

_Wait._

_Sirius!_

Cassandra quickly looked outside the shop window, immediately noticing that the sun was setting. She had spent an entire day in Diagon Alley leaving that poor man all alone in a tiny flat with nothing but water and an half-finished pack of biscuit to eat! The girl immediately got up from the floor, ignoring her pained leg and almost bolting outside the shop. The ex- soldier marched to the small alley she had used to enter the town, oblivious to the strange creatures and people surrounding her. She was a few feet away from her destination when a picture abandoned on the ground caught her attention.

It was the photograph of a man with black hair and piercing grey eyes. His skin was pale and ill-looking, and his cheeks sunken. He was laughing, screaming and crying at the same time, looking around with a pained expression in his eyes.

_Sirius Black_

_XY390_

_Azkaban Prison._

Azkaban Prison? Cassandra had never heard of such a place.

_It must be a magical prison. Maybe he was accused of killing wizards too._

As far as Cassandra was concerned, this discovery didn't change anything. It didn't matter if even the magical population believed Sirius was a mass murderer: the girl still firmly believed in his innocence. However, it was clear that Mr. Black's bad reputation had pretty solid foundations if both wizards and "normal" people knew about his supposed crimes. In fact, a day in Diagon Alley was enough for Cassandra to understand that witches and wizards weren't particularly keen on sharing their world with plain, non-magical Londoners, and Sirius was clearly part of this magical world: if he hadn't been considered a real threat, nobody outside the Alley would have known of his escapade.

Lost in her thoughts, Cassandra limped slowly, oblivious to the world around her. She was so concentrated on the delirious man in the picture that she bumped into a dark figure, almost falling down and losing her sunglasses.

"Pay attention!" the man all but barked, marching away and leaving an annoyed Cassandra behind.

"Well sorry, but I...", the girl however, never finished her sentence. She was to busy replaying that voice in her head. It sounded familiar, in a very unpleasant way...

_"Come with me, we'll find your Dad"_

Cassandra stood frozen in the middle of the Alley, her mouth agape and her limbs trembling. The hold on the picture lessened, and soon the laughing face of Sirius Black was floating in the air, dancing with the fallen leaves and playing with the wind like a free, happy, big black dog.

* * *

It had been almost eleven hours since Sirius Back had finally turned into his human form, and he was already eager to be a dog again.

Everything was easier as a dog: pain was more bearable, emotions and colours were dimmer and thoughts were more straightforward and clear. A huge bowl of food and a scratch behind his ears were good reasons to be happy, and Cassandra had covered him with delicious meat and cuddles for two weeks.

Being human was different. First of all, it was pretty painful: Sirius' joints were weak and damaged by years of immobility, humidity and starvation; His lungs were still slightly inflamed and each breath was like a fall in Hell; his now bare skin shivered with cold, even though it was a sunny hot summer day.

Secondly, his human mind was an utter mess.

Thoughts, feelings and emotions screamed and fought in his poor battered brain, playing with the last thin strings of sanity he still possessed. Some of them were familiar and didn't scare Sirius too much: there was Guilt, that cruel lady who had haunted him for twelve years and more, whispering in his sensible ears all the horrible crimes he had committed. There was Regret, an old, sad man who kept watching his past and murmur all the possibilities he had thrown into the bin.

_If only you __had been more careful and less… Gryffindor, you __would have probably found Cassandra years before, you wouldn't have been sent into Azkaban and Harry wouldn't have been an orphan._

There was Fear, that small trembling child with a pale skin and grey eyes. He was always there, hidden in a corner of his mind, whimpering and crying, terrified by the thought of returning in that hell hole, receiving the Kiss, or, even worse, losing Cassandra again.

Cassandra.

She was the thought that fed the worst of the ghosts in Sirius' mind, Memory. Oh, Memory was the cruelest of the spirits, cold and imperturbable in her dark floating cloak. She danced and laughed between the other ghosts, giving them more and more reasons to whisper, mutter and cry. In Azkaban she had simply played with the worst events int the Animagus' life, bringing them to the surface with a frightening vividness. She had been the Dementors' best friend, providing them with the few happy thoughts that coloured Sirius' life. Now the Dementors were gone, but the evil woman had soon found another playmate: Cassandra's memories. She kept replaying the horrible images the poor girl's mind had shared with him: blood, explosions, pain, loneliness… It was like a Muggle reproduction of his own childhood, with the important difference that, apparently, Cassandra didn't have any real friends.

Memory loved those images. With them she could feed Fear, irritate Regret and enrage Guilt. Most of all, with them she kept Shame and Sadness alive.

Sadness was an old friend of Sirius'. He had been deeply sad during all his life, even though he had always been good at hiding it behind a mask of furious outbursts and bark-like laughs. Somehow, Sadness abandoned him during his school days, especially with Cassie's arrival in his life. After the child disappearance she had tried to come back, but he had rejected her, wrapping himself in a thin blanket of hope and determination. After the fateful night of Halloween, however, Sadness finally won over the young man resistances and embraced him, making him drown in despair. Sadness went to sleep when he escaped Azkaban, his dog mind too happy to be in the open air again to accept her painful presence. Now, however she was there, sitting on Sirius' lap, covering his eyes with her long, humid hands. Sirius Black wanted to cry so much. He was desperate. Desperate because Cassandra Lupin, a living angel with wonderful eyes and a heart-melting smile, had lost her wings. She had been munched and spat by a world she didn't belong to, she had been rejected by her own universe. Despite all their efforts, despite all the plans the Marauders had elaborated to keep her away from destiny, Cassandra had followed the path the nature of their Pack had set up for her: she was an outcast, a lone wolf with more reasons to become a bloodthirsty beast rather than to behave like a human being. Her eyes were haunted and full of pain. Sirius saw himself in those eyes and couldn't help but being sad, because she didn't deserve to feel the way he felt.

Sirius saw himself in those eyes, but there was something different too. Something that made him feel proud and ashamed at the same time.

Shame. That was one of the emotions he had struggled so much to recognise. He wasn't used to that feeling. He was a Gryffindor, a Lion. Lions were _never_ ashamed. He had always walked with a straight back ans squared shoulders, no matter how painful were the gashes on his back, no matter how many insults his cousins shouted at him from the Slytherin table. Sirius Black and Shame lived on completely different planets. Until now. Now Sirius Black was deeply ashamed. He was ashamed by his mind. He was ashamed because, even though Cassandra had endured similar sufferings and tragedies, the girl still had the clear mind and kind soul that characterized her as a child. Of course, her behaviour was a bit harsher than before and her eyes were haunted and at times cold, but she was still… pure. This made Sirius Black drown in shame, because he, a thirty-year-old ex-Auror known for his courage and recklessness, was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and couldn't control his thoughts and emotions. He was just like Fear, small, fragile and terrified, whereas Cassie, so young and delicate, stood straight and strong, ready to help a perfect stranger and face an hostile world alone.

Sirius Black was ashamed, but was proud at the same time. He had always been proud, mostly of himself. Now, however, he was proud of Cassandra. The little wolf, the big fighter. She didn't know it yet, but she was so similar to her father. _ You have to tell her. You have to tell her how much Remus will be proud of her. How much you are proud of her._

Yes.

He had to tell her.

Cassandra was strong and alive, but was still broken. She had lost her wings.

He had to help her. He had to fix her.

He had caused so much pain.

He had suffered terribly.

He deserved to die.

But now she was there. Ready to forgive him. Ready to trust him.

He couldn't let her down.

He had to be strong despite his aching heart only asked for a forgiving, peaceful death.

He had to bring happiness and safety in Cassandra's life despite the fact that he didn't know what happiness was anymore.

Shame and Pride. An odd combination of feelings which managed to win over the evil laugh of Memory and the whispers of Guilt. And so, after hours of silent sobs and depressing thoughts, Sirius Black got up from the floor. At first he swayed and wobbled, still unused to be in a straight position. Then step by step, curse after curse, his cracking junctions managed to bear his light weight, and he walked almost normally. He paced and paced and paced. He forgot to eat and drink. He had to walk, to bring back his dignity and strength. Only in this way he would have been able to protect the wingless angel.

Cassandra found him exactly like that, pacing and muttering like a madman. He didn't even notice her presence until she loudly cleared her throat.

"Good evening…"

Sirius Black jumped at the sudden noise, terrified. It took him a couple of seconds to understand that the voice came from Cassandra and not from some Auror ready to arrest him.

_Idiot. Idiotidiotidiot._

Cassandra quietly closed the door behind her and leaned against the wall, watching him with amusement dancing in her green eyes. She waited patiently for him to catch his breath, not bothering to try and make any questions. After all, she had all the time of the world.

After a few minutes, Sirius finally managed to keep his heartbeat at bay and lifted his gaze in order to look at Cassie directly in the eye.

"D-did you have fun?" He wanted to sound cheerful and carefree, but the sort of croak that came out of his mouth betrayed all the hollow emotions he had experienced in the last decade.

Cassandra studied him for a while with a blank expression. Then she smiled. Not the wolfish, mischievous grin she had flashed him before leaving. A real smile, full of pure joy and wonder.

"It. Was. AMAZING!"

And she started talking. She limped up and down the flat, gesticulating like a woman possessed. Finally, after hours spent concealing her emotions, the ex-soldier was able to let out all her excitement and happiness. She described everything in detail, not missing a single brick of the enchanted Alley. Sirius sat down again, listening intently to her happy chatter. She was so… curious, interested…_ Alive._ She was pure energy.

An unknown warmth shyly started spreading in the Animagus' chest. All of a sudden the plain room which Cassandra called home was… brighter. The temperature seemed to raise, and soon Sirius' skin stopped shivering.

What was that?... Could that be a sort of magic?

Maybe…

No.

It couldn't be.

He was sure he would had never felt that feeling again, a least not in his human form.

Happiness.

It was there. After all those years. After all the pain.

It had been almost eleven hours since Sirius Black had turned back human. And finally, after eleven long hours, he didn't want to become a dog again.

* * *

**Oh, ehr.. I almost forgot... Please, please, please keep reviewing! Your feedback is precious and always useful :)**


	8. Give Up the Ghost

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyody!**

**I have to say, today I am really happy, because I just found out that The Lost Wolf had more than 1200 views! Yay!**

**Also, a big thank you to Naflower05 for her review!**

**Ok... writing this chapter was... complicated. I wanted to write something more about Remus, since I had already introduced the character in the chapter Go To Sleep, and so I did. Multiple times. I hope you like this last version. It's a bit detailed in the description of violence... However, I didn't feel the need to put a higher rating to this chapter. Please tell me if you think otherwise!**

**For the first time since I began writing this story, I had problems finding a suitable title... Give Up The Ghost is a Radiohead song, of course. I didn't quote the lyrics in this chapter, but I suggest you to listen to the song, not only because it's amazing, but also because it will help you understanding the reasons of my choice. **

**What else can I say... in this chapter you'll find some answers, but most of all you'll find latin. Yeah, you read well: latin. Coming from an Italian grammar school, I had to learn latin, and I can't say I didn't enjoy studying it! This is a sort of tribute to a subject I really loved and I dearly miss... I didn't invent anything, the lines you'll find in the chapter come from the Hippocratic Oath. I'll put the translation at the end of the chapter :)**

**Sooo... Read, enjoy, and most importantly, review!**

* * *

Something strange happened the night after McGonagall's visit.

At first it was the same old nightmare he had been experiencing for a few months.

_"Are you sure you want to take this shift alone, Wilkins? I can stay with you if you want…"_

_Everything is dark and quiet. The smell of alcohol and blood fills the air but nobody is screaming in pain. _

_There is a light, coming from a door at the end of the room._

_Remus walks towards the door and quietly opens it._

_It is an office. Sort of._

_The walls are hidden behind large metallic cupboards filled with what seem to be Muggle medicines._

_The light is cold and falters slightly every couple of seconds._

_There is a desk in the middle of the office. In front of it stands a woman. She is tall and has a dark complexion. She is wearing a strange uniform._

_Behind the desks stands another woman. She is giving her back to the door, Remus can't see her face. She's taller than the other one, and is wearing a long white coat. She's scanning through the shelves, apparently searching for some kind of medications. Her hair is dark blond and is gathered in a low bun._

_She speaks. Her voice is sweet and musical._

_"Don't worry Kate. Go to the party and have fun… You deserve some rest, after all"_

_The woman in that strange uniform, Kate, rolls her eyes in exasperation._

_"You could use some rest too, you know. How many hours have you slept this week? Ten? Eight?"_

_The blond woman turns around, smiling tiredly._

_"Six. And I'm perfectly fine. Sleep is highly overrated"_

_Kate mutters something and finally exits the room, but Remus doesn't care. He's too busy staring at the girl in front of him._

_Her eyes. His eyes._

_Her skin is strained and her jaw looks badly bruised. Her cheeks are sunken and her complexion is so pale that she looks dead._

_But those eyes. He could recognize them everywhere._

_Cassandra._

_She is smiling. She always smiles. But she isn't happy._

_Why?_

_She was happy. He saw her._

_An explosion echoes in the distance, and the floor trembles slightly. Cassandra, however, isn't worried by the little earthquake. She just keeps scanning through the shelves, eventually picking up a small white box. She sits at the desks and starts scribbling something on one of those Muggle notebooks. _

_After a while she takes off her white coat, showing her own uniform. It's different from Kate's one… it looks like the Aurors' one, but it's green, and the trousers are full of pockets._

_Cassandra rubs her face with her hands. She's tired, despite what she has told Kate._

_However, something happens that wakes her up from her numbness._

_A thud. A growl. A crash._

_Remus knows that growl so well. He has heard it coming from his own mouth so many times._

_He wants to grab Cassandra and hold her close. He wants to take her away from that danger._

_But he isn't there. And Cassandra jumps up from her chair, looking warily at a plastic curtain on her right._

_"Who's there?"_

_Her tone is harsh and threatening, but she doesn't know. Oh, if only she knew._

_Slowly Cassandra approaches the curtain, drawing a gun out of her left pocket._

_A thud. A growl. A crash. A whimper._

_Don't go through that curtain, Cassandra. Please. I'll find you and I'll take you with me. No more guns, no more explosions. But please, please… Don't go through that curtain._

_"Miss Wilkins…"_

_Before Remus notices him, Cassandra is already holding a little boy close, pressing a hand on his mouth._

_She murmurs something in a language Remus doesn't understand, but the boy nods and crawls out of the office as silently as he can._

_As soon as he is out of the room, Cassandra lays her back on the door and closes it quietly, wincing every time she makes a sound._

_She locks it._

_From the inside._

_"CASSANDRA WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING! OPEN THAT DAMN DOOR AND RUN"_

_But she can't hear him. _

_A growl. A crash. A howl._

_It is coming. Closer and closer._

_Cassandra is terrified. Her yes are wide and wild._

_Her hold on the gun tightens. _

_With a hand she reaches for a strange black thing in her right pocket._

_It's a muggle object… A walkie-talkie._

_She turns it on. She is sweating and trembling._

_" Roberts, come in. Over"_

_She is breathing heavily, waiting for someone to hear her. _

_A buzzing voice comes from that strange device. The sound is disturbed, but Remus can hear everything._

_"Wilkins, this is Roberts. Go ahead."_

_A growl. A thud. Another thud._

_It is coming closer._

_Cassandra's voice is urgent, worried. She speaks fast but keeps her tone low._

_"There is a wolf in the emergency Room. Break. It's… it's in the stocking section, it hasn't reached the patients yet. Break. I… I'll try to bring it outside the building, but you have to call for help ASAP. How copy? Over."_

_"Wilkins, I copy. We'll come ASAP. Over."_

_No, Cassandra. _

_Don't do that._

_Run away._

_You can't do anything. It's too strong._

_But Cassandra doesn't listen to him. She approaches the curtain slowly, silently. _

_She murmurs something under her breath. _

_"Apollinem medicum et Aesculapium Hygeamque ac Panaceam iuro deosque omnes itemque deas testes facio me hoc iusiurandum et hanc contestationem conscriptam pro viribus et iudicio meo integre servaturum esse: …."_

_With her right hand she lifts the curtain, careful not to make a sound._

_"…Ceterum quod ad aegros attinet sanandos, diaetam ipsis constitutam pro facultate et iudicio meo commodam, omneque detrimentum et iniuriam ab eis prohibebo…"_

_A growl. A whimper. A crash. _

_Cassandra jerks backwards, leaning against the wall. She lifts her eyes to the ceiling, keeping murmuring those latin words._

_" Neque vero ullius preces apud me adeo validae fuerint, ut cuipiam venenum sim propinaturus, neque etiam ad hanc rem consilium dabo..."_

_She crouches and lifts the curtain again._

_No. Cassandra, please. Run away…_

_Her murmuring becomes more frantic and desperate. Her breath is ragged. She notices that her shoes echo loudly on the office floor. She takes them off._

_ "Porro praeterea et sancte vitam et artem meam conservabo... "_

_Please, Cassandra. Run away._

_" In quascumque autem domos ingrediar…_

_…. ob utilitatem aegrotantium intrabo…"_

_She doesn't listen to him. She goes past the curtain. She crawls. Quiet, careful, silent. _

_It's right in front of her, hidden in the darkness._

_It's huge, stuck between two muggle machines._

_It growls, and twitches, and snaps, and howls._

_Its yellow eyes are bright and wild. _

_Its fangs glisten in the dull light of the full moon._

_It's stuck. But it's getting closer._

_"…. ab omnique iniuria voluntaria inferenda…_

_… et corruptione cum alia…"_

_It doesn't notice Cassandra. Not immediately._

_She crawls in the darkness, lips moving almost imperceptibly, the gun safely stuffed in her left pocket._

_ "tum praesertim operum venereorum abstinebo…_

_…. sive muliebria sive virilia…_

_…. liberorumve hominum aut servorum corpora…_

_… mihi contigerint curanda."_

_She stops. She is right behind the monster. It still hasn't noticed her. _

_Please, Cassandra._

_Don't do that.._

_DON'T.._

_She gets up from the floor. She draws the gun out of her pocket. She points it to the ceiling. _

_Bangs echo in the silence. _

_The monster stops growling._

_It howls._

_There is no fear in Cassandra's eyes. Just resignation._

_She points the gun to the window. Pieces of glass shatter on the floor._

_Just in time._

_The monster is free._

_It growls and snaps its jaws, pushing and throwing heavy machines on the floor._

_The monster wants her._

_She jumps out of the window, ignoring the sharp pain of the glasses ripping her flesh._

_The monster gets stuck in the window, it growls and howls and shows its fangs._

_Cassandra runs in the forest. She is fast and agile. She doesn't trip on a root, she doesn't bump into low branches. _

_Remus runs with her._

_The monster runs after her._

_She turns back, she shots at the monster._

_She hits it._

_But it isn't enough._

_She just makes it angrier. And hungrier._

_She is fast. But the monster is faster._

_The firs bite comes to her left side. She doesn't have the time to scream or cry, because the monster throws her against a tree. _

_Something cracks. Maybe her ribcage._

_Remus wants to help her, but he can't. He wants to look away, but he can't._

_Cassandra tries to crawl away from the monster, holding her bitten side._

_The second bite comes to her shoulder. It throws her backwards, under the monster._

_The monster pins her to the ground, sinking its massive claws into her arms._

_She struggles to get away, but it's too strong._

_This time she screams. And sharp claws hit her in the face, in the neck, in the chest. _

_Her left arm is free now. She is fast, despite the pain. She gets away. She crawls towards her gun._

_Something stops her. The third bite. The worst one._

_Remus knows there's nothing he can do, but he screams anyway. He screams and shouts and cries while strong jaws close around Cassandra's leg._

_She can't move. The monster's paws are on her back, cutting her skin into shreds._

_Remus cries, and shouts and screams. But she doesn't. She just stares in the distance with her wide green eyes, a cheek pressed to the soft soil of the forest, her skin growing darker and darker with blood. _

_There is a crack, a strap. Bones are broken, flesh is ripped._

_The monster is busy, it doesn't pay attention. A paw shifts. Cassandra's left arm is free._

_She is weak, her eyes are duller and duller. But her hand moves nonetheless._

_She grabs a small, round thing._

_Another paw shifts._

_She brings the thing to her mouth. She bites and pulls. Then she turns and throws the thing over her._

_The monster is busy, it doesn't pay attention. The only thing that keeps Cassandra in place is its mouth on the remains of her leg._

_So she pulls._

_She gets free._

_The monster wants to reach her, finish her, but it's too late. The small round thing explodes. The monster is gone with a last pained howl._

_The silence is deafening. _

_Cassandra. _

_No._

_What have you done._

_What have I done._

_She is lying on the ground, her eyes still open, her mouth still moving._

_"Hoc igitur iusiurandum mihi integre servanti, et non confundenti, contingat et vita et arte feliciter frui, et apud omnes homines in perpetuum gloriam meam celebrari. Transgredienti autem et peieranti, his contraria eveniant"._

_And her heart stops._

Usually, at this point Remus Lupin woke up covered in cold sweat ant tears, calling for her daughter in vain. The night after McGonagall's visit, however, something different happened.

His nose, powerful but weakened by years of muggle cigarettes, sniffed a peculiar scent.

Cinnamon, Orange, Mint and Lemon.

He didn't recognize that scent, but apparently Moony did, because he started howling in glee and hope.

Now, there had been a time in which Remus Lupin would have listened to the Wolf. In fact, when he was at Hogwarst he had learned to accept his feral side, enjoying the strength and the power that this implied.

Nobody had noticed the difference between old shy Remus and dangerous, dominant Moony, apart from the Marauders, because he hadn't felt the need to show off his strength and power using violence and growls. He liked being kind and patient, he liked expressing his dominance through his genius mind and pranks.

Cassandra appearance had been the only occasion in which Remus had shown his fangs. Literally. How could they even think to hide her from him, hurting her, letting her starve and die? She was his Cub, his daughter, and he was one of the most powerful Alphas the magical world had ever seen. Not even Fenrir Greyback stood a chance against his wrath, it didn't matter that, at the time, Remus was only fifteen years old.

He had never felt more alive. Burying his sharp teeth in the other wolf's limbs, ripping the flesh, feeling the blood flowing in his wolfish mouth. He still remembered the glorious morning after that full moon. Dumbledore was furious with Madame Pomfrey for having left the Shack open, giving him the opportunity to escape. He didn't know that a couple of magical shields couldn't compete with the strength of an enraged father. That, and the wand of the above-mentioned father's spectacled friend.

When the werewolf had marched into the Hospital wing, oh, what a show! The nurse was ready to faint and even the Headmaster blanched visibly. He was half-naked, covered in blood and sweat, his eyes glowing dangerously and his mouth stretched into a feral, murderous grin. And he was holding a two-year-old child. _His _two-year-old child.

Cassandra.

The one who shines upon men. That was the meaning of the name, and it was true.

She was perfect. She was beautiful, sweet, intelligent... She was his treasure, his pride and glory. He practically glowed when he was with her.

With Cassandra, however, old doubts and fears came back with full force. She had been hurt by other werewolves. People like him. He didn't want her to suffer again, he didn't want his inner wolf to put her into trouble. So he had started fighting Moony. Again. It was painful and he felt awful for a while, but his little angel was worth it.

But it hadn't been enough.

She had disappeared anyway.

And now she was gone.

Gone for good.

Dead.

Killed by a werewolf.

Despite having been raised by muggles.

Oh, the irony of fate.

He had tried to ignore the Wolf.

He had ignored Moony, he had ignored his howls of outrage when he had turned his back to the window of the restaurant.

He had chosen to abandon his feral side for good.

But the Wolf kept howling. And now, in the dazed atmosphere of that unusual dream, despite the almost automatic tendency to overlook him, Remus couldn't help but ask himself if there was still a point in pretending Moony didn't exist.

Soon enough, it became clear that there wasn't a point at all.

The idea was appealing. Abandon any kind of resistance, embrace his old furry friend.

Cassandra would have been happy to see her father finally reconciled with Moony.

Remus could practically see the Wolf jumping up and down, wiggling his tail hopefully.

And then, that scent hit them again.

Cinnamon, orange, mint and lemon.

A laugh. Sweet and musical, even if a bit hoarse.

_"Agh, Doggie, stop!..."_

_"…Dad once told me something regarding being in the middle of a war…"_

_"…So? Do I look like a witch?"_

Voices filled the darkness, leaving Remus dazed and confused. Moony, instead, howled happily and… smugly?

The voices became louder and more chaotic, creating a pretty unpleasant cacophony in Remus' mind.

Suddenly, something appeared in the darkness, far away.

Moony was almost hyperventilating with excitement.

Remus squinted his eyes to catch more details about that strange figure.

It was a man. He had his knees on the floor and was staring at the horizon, completely still.

Walking slowly, Remus went closer and closer to the man, the Wolf running a few feet ahead of him.

The man was hidden in the shadows and didn't seem to notice his presence.

Remus kneeled in front of him, only to fall backwards with a shout.

Sirius Black.

His grey eyes were dull and he looked skinny and ill, but it was still_ him_. The traitor. The murderer.

Remus wanted to tackle him and strangle him, but a low growl distracted him.

Moony was angry. Not with Black. With_ Remus._

What the…

_If you want to be friends with me again, Human, you have to help the Dog._

Maybe that reconciliation thing wasn't a great idea, after all. Moony was delusional.

_Listen, Human!_

Sighing, Remus complied, muttering under his breath something about mad mangy wolves.

Suddenly the cacophony stopped, and Remus could clearly hear a musical, sweet voice whispering:

"_We'll find him, Sirius. We'll find the rat. You'll be free, and the family reunited…_

_… You paid for any possible crime you could commit in the future. Sorry is not your word to say"._

* * *

"...And then, just when I was about to buy that wonderful book I overheard that wizards do not use British currency. It was a shame, really. There was this interesting potion to cure dragon pox... Really fascinating! And the pictures... Wow. They were moving! I mean, actually _moving._ I know that's not a new thing for you, but... Wow! Anyway, in that moment I noticed that I had been away for a whole day, so I decided to come back and check how you were doing." Cassandra ended her long and detailed account, still grinning madly and slightly out of breath. She had never felt so _thrilled_ before. During her slow walk towards home she had had the time to let her new discoveries sink in, and was now pleased to say that she wasn't shocked or scared anymore. She was giddy. And excited. And wonderfully _alive._

Waves of raw energy flooded through her body, making her almost jump on the place. She wanted to go back there and buy that book. And an owl. And one of those wonderful set of quills she had spotted in one of the shops...

_Calm down. Answers first. Mad magical shopping later._

Still practically glowing with happiness, Cassandra looked at Sirius properly for the first time since she had entered the flat. He was sitting quietly on his pillow, his knees brought near his chest, and was smiling at her gently. His eyes, however, weren't smiling. They were troubled and full of anxiety.

Sighing, Cassandra carefully sat on the floor, facing the escaped convict like she had done in the morning. The man clearly noticed her change of attitude and stiffened slightly, the smile gone. He didn't talk, though, and the girl knew she had to be the one to break the ice.

"Alright, Mr. Black. Magic exist, I think that denying this now would be a bit dumb of me. So... You said that I could have all the answers I needed..."

"I'm innocent".

The words came out before he could held his tongue. He knew that she knew that he wasn't a murderer, but those three words were the only thing he had dared to say for twelve years. It was almost an automatic tape.

Cassandra tilted her head and frowned in confusion.

"Yeah... I thought that I'd already made myself clear about this point. I trust you. And believe me, if I had even a tiny doubt about your innocence you wouldn't be here, chatting quietly with me."

Sirius didn't reply. He simply lowered his gaze and gulped soundly.

The girl looked at him sadly. He was like a frightened animal. What could have possibly happened in the last twelve years to make him so scared of everything?

After a while she understood that he wasn't in the right condition to talk without a guidance. Somehow, in the few hours she had been away he had lost that bit of confidence he had showed during their first encounter.

"Very well... Since you don't seem so eager to talk, I'm going to ask some questions about what happened to you, alright?"

The animagus nodded imperceptibly, daring to lift his gaze and look at the ex-soldier.

"Ok. First of all, I want to know exactly the reason why you were imprisoned. I know from our reporters that you are accused of killing thirteen people, but somehow I don't think that's the full story. Maybe this has to do with the fact that Diagon Alley was plastered with pictures of you.."

Cassandra trailed off, studying the man's eyes carefully. They were lost in the space, probably reviving the memories of the past years. They were like a cloudy sky just before a huge tempest. She could almost hear the rumbling of thunder and the flashes of lightnings.

"It's... complicated".

Cassandra couldn't help but roll her eyes, a bit exasperated.

"_Of course_ it's complicated. If it had been simple you wouldn't have spent twelve years in prison, right?" Seeing that her caustic comment wasn't doing any good to their already difficult conversation, the girl backtracked quickly.

"Sorry. I get a bit short-tempered when I'm hungry... Well... What about having something to eat, uh? I stopped by the supermarket before coming home and I bought some rice. It's not much, but I don't think your stomach could hold something else at the moment. I have always a bit of cheese in the fridge, if you want. It's Italian. A bit expensive, actually, but it's really good, it will help you fattening up a bit..."

Cassandra got up from the floor preparing their frugal dinner and keeping talking about whatever came up to her mind. She had noticed that her chattering relaxed Sirius, and he really needed to stop being so stiff and jumpy.

"... Oh, I also bought some new clothes for you. They are quite plain, I warn you. Just a track suit, underwear and some t-shirts. Oh, and trainers. I found them in a secondhand shop. I'm sorry I couldn't afford anything else, but maybe next month I will be able to find something cooler... Maybe a jacket. Yes, you really look like the leather jacket type."

"There was a war going on. In the magical world, I mean"

Cassandra almost dropped the bag of rice she was holding. She had almost forgotten about the question she had asked him a couple of minutes before.

A war.

_We are in the middle of a war, sweetheart. We have to stay united._

Oh.

It looked like Cassandra was destined to jump from a war to another.

"Mmmh.. Yes... I remember Dad once told me something regarding being in the middle of a war. What was that about?" Sirius slowly got up from the floor and started pacing, frequently passing a hand through his matted hair.

"Cassie... Do... do you remember that flashback... that flashback with the redhead g-girl? L-lily?".

Cassandra nodded absent-mindedly, too busy pouring the rice in a kettle to notice his pained expression.

"Yeah... I asked her some odd questions... who was her by the way?"

"That's beside the point".

Sirius croaking voice had a harsh tone that made Cassandra jerk her head up. The man, however, didn't seem to notice and resumed his pacing.

"In that flashback she... she told you that some people thought that witches and wizards who had non-magical parents or closed relatives were inferior to the so-called _purebloods_, who instead came from entirely magical families. Well, that was practically the main reason the war began."

The animagus paused, looking at the girl in front of him intently. He had expected her to rant against the stupidity of that conflict, but she didn't say a word. Actually, she didn't even tore her gaze off the now boiling water of the kettle, although Sirius could clearly see her frowning.

"... Right... There... there was this man, Tom Riddle. He hated Muggles and Muggle-borns.."

"What's a muggle?"

"A non-magical person... Anyway, Riddle really despised Muggles and Muggle-borns, he blamed them for the problems of wizarding society. Muggle-borns, in particular... Well, he thought they shouldn't have been accepted in our world. He wanted to destroy them. Of course, many people were against his views, but some families... The most ancient, "pure", ones... They agreed with him. Long story short, in a few years the lad managed to gather quite a large group of fanatics who would do whatever he asked them to do."

Sirius stopped for a couple of seconds, trying to stay calm. Cassandra looked at him, worried. She could see his hands clenching and unclenching and his jaw set almost painfully, and suddenly realized that his war experience had been radically different from hers.

She had fought in a war. He had _lived _a war. He had seen his world, his life, his friends falling apart, whereas she had just gone into the battlefield like a manager goes to his office, never risking anything but her own life.

After a while Sirius finally managed to calm down a bit and continued the story.

"It was... It was horrible. People disappeared, entire families were tortured and slaughtered like filthy beasts. Riddle called himself Voldemort. His most loyal followers started wearing masks and took the name of Death Eaters. Many of them were teenagers, Cassie. Just like you. Children coming from pureblood bigoted families, trained to kill and torture and hate muggle borns and magical creatures which weren't wizards and witches. Soon enough everybody had to take a side and fight, or try to move abroad and hide... I... I decided to fight... against Voldemort of course."

Now Cassandra was confused. Why using children and common citizen to fight? Didn't they have a government, an Army?

"I... don't understand. I mean, there was this Voldemort who woke up one day and decided to kill and torture muggle-borns. He gathered up a bunch of psychotic teenagers and started going round and spreading death and destruction. That's understandable. But why you? I mean, were you a member of the Army or something? Did your government trained you or.."

"Cassie... Wizarding world is... different from Muggle world. We don't have an Army. We have Aurors... who are like muggle... ehr... Policemen? Apart from that we are defensless. Not to mention that our government... our government mainly consists of a bunch of idiots and corrupted jerks who are more interested in money and fame rather than people safety and justice". He said that without breathing, his voice not so different from a low growl.

"... The only hope was a secret society, the Order of the Phoenix. The Headmaster of the school your father and I went to created this organisation to gather whoever was willing to fight against Voldemort. Remus, James... _Pettigrew_ and I joined it when we were fifteen."

Pettigrew?

Who was him?

Another question for another time.

"Fifteen... Wow. That's... You were as old as I was when... when I went fighting"

Sirius looked at Cassandra, who was now concentrated on the really complicated task of cutting the cheese. She probably didn't know that he had been able to see some of her memories, but that was a subject they would have to face later.

"... Cassie?"

"Mmmh?"

"I am sorry for what happened to you. I... I don't know exactly what happened in your life after you... you d-disappeared, but I know it hasn't been easy. And I am s-sorry. Because I... because _we _should have been here for you... And we couldn't."

Cassandra stared at him wide-eyed.

Sorry.

Nobody had ever said that to her.

Well, apart from the doctor who told her about her physical condition, of course, but that didn't count. He was just following a script.

But Sirius Black... he was really apologizing. Why, though? It had been her fault, after all. She hadn't listened to her father. The only person who should have been feeling guilty was her.

Suddenly uncomfortable, the ex-soldier hastily handed Sirius his bowl of rice and a piece of cheese, carefully averting his gaze. The couple awkwardly sat cross-legged on Cassandra's bed, and for a while no sound could be heard apart from quiet munching and swallowing.

Cassandra studied closely the man in front of her and started thinking about that Azkaban prison. In fact, it was highly improbable that a week on the run could have done such a damage to Sirius' physical condition: he was definitely too skinny and weak. Suddenly, Cassandra remembered the old-fashioned outfits and habits showed by Diagon Alley's citizens and shivered at the thought that, maybe, even the magical prison system hadn't improved since the Middle Ages.

"So... you joined this Order of the Phenix when you were fifteen... together with my father and two other guys. What... What did you have to do?"

Sirius shook out from his reverie and lifted his grey eyes from the highly appreciated bowl of rice, frowning slightly as he tried to recall some of their missions. It wasn't that difficult, since most of them were bad memories.

"Well... Mostly we had to patrol our school and try to prevent other kids from joining Voldemort. Sometimes we were asked to spy on the youngest Death Eaters and report our findings to the Headmaster. When the term finished, though... Things often became complicated." With that he stuffed a spoonful of rice in his mouth, munching it more than necessary.

"We had missions. Real, potentially fatal missions. We had to run whenever an attack occurred, wherever it was. We... we were young. Too young... that first summer of fighting almost broke us."

Then, to Cassandra utter surprise, Sirius' eyes brightened, ad if he had suddenly remembered something wonderful. And he had.

"But you were there. A two-year-old bundle of happiness and energy. It didn't matter how much tired or injured we were, you could always cheer us up."

Wait. Two years old? That meant... That meant that her father had her when he was _thirteen_? That was... weird.

Sirius completely ignored Cassandra's expression of confusion and went on with his story.

"So we managed to survive. Your father, James and I became even more friends than before, if that's possible. We were like brothers.

When we were seventeen... A traitor infected the Order. We didn't know who he or she could possibly be, but all the trust and faith we had in each other... was g-gone. All the small things like being late to a meeting or spending a bit too much time in the loo... Everything was interpreted as a sign that maybe, just maybe that person could be a traitor."

Sirius swallowed thickly, his expression dark and hollow again.

"I... think everybody thought that the most likely traitors were Remus and I. From my part, I was the Heir of one of the most bigoted, pureblood family in Great Britain. I had been disowned before my sixteenth birthday due to my _absurd_ ideals and _disrespectful _behaviour, but apparently that wasn't enough for the public eye to understand that I wasn't a Voldemort follower. Remus, on the other hand... he wasn't a pureblood, he... had another problem... I... don't... think this is the time to tell you about it".

Cassandra stared at him with wide eyes. A problem? With her father? How could he possibly think that she would let it go?

A problem...

A...

"furry little problem", Cassandra whispered those three words, completely oblivious to their meaning, but Sirius' sensible ears caught them anyway.

"You... you know?". the animagus' voice was strangled and slightly high-pitched. What if Cassandra knew? What if Cassandra had suddenly remembered that horrible discussion he had had with Moony just a couple of weeks before her disappearance? He wasn't sure to be ready to face her reaction, and couldn't help but exhale a breath of relief when the girl shook her head, utterly confused.

"those words just came to my mind, but I don't... I don't know what they mean. Furry little problem? Who is him, a Yeti or something?"

Despite the tense situation, Sirius found himself snorting in amusement at the ex-soldier's expression of real interest and concern.

"No... I can assure you that Moony is not a Yeti. But when we meet him I'll make sure he knows about your first guess. I think he'll find it quite amusing."

_When we meet him._

_When we..._

_meet him._

_meet Moony._

_Moony is Remus._

_Remus is Dad._

_meet Dad._

_we._

"You... you will... you will b.. bring me... t-to... Dad?".

Sirius thought he had never seen wider eyes. There was so much wonder in them, so much... hope. They practically sparkled with longing.

_You, filthy Voldemort scum who ruined Cassandra's life. Wait until I find you..._

Trying to sound nonchalant, Sirius shrugged.

"Of course we'll meet your Dad. He's family. And we have thirteen years to made up for"

Cassandra stared at him.

And stared.

And stared.

Then, really, really slowly, she grinned. A wonderful, sweet, adorable grin.

Then she did two things she had never done before. Two very girly things.

She squealed.

And she hugged Sirius. Actually, she all but threw herself at him, tackling the poor man on the ground and making the two bowls of rice crash on the floor.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou..."

Sirius tentatively hugged her back, trying to adjust to the strange feeling of his facial muscles stretching into an equally wide grin. It was like having eaten a whole bag of Chocolate Frogs after a Dementors attack: he felt incredibly warm and cozy.

The hug didn't last long. They were both too uncomfortable with human friendly contact to bear an actual embrace. After a couple of seconds Cassandra took again her place on the camp bed, helping Sirius to do the same. She was still grinning madly.

"Ok… Ehr… Everydoby thought either you or Dad could be the traitor. What happened then?"

And again, the silver in Sirius' eyes lost their brightness, being filled by dark, dangerous clouds.

"You got lost"

Oh.

Suddenly, Cassandra felt really guilty. If only she hadn't be so… childlish…

The animagus looked at the girl, observing as she lowered her gaze, her beautiful smile gone. He had to gather all his strength to fight and win over the lump which was blocking his throat.

"That April day… the young group of Death Eaters who populated Hogwarst decided to throw an attack to Hogsmeade, the magical village near our school. We… we never understood what happened. One minute you were there with us in the pub and then… and… t-then you were gone. D-disappeared. L-lost… l-lost in the chaos of the battle…."

Sirius paused for a while, clenching and unclenching his bony hands trying not to lose his temper. Despite the sinking feeling in her chest, Cassandra managed to smile weakly at him, tentatively brushing her hand on his.

"That was… that was the last straw. We completely lost it, your father in particular. We spent months inspecting the forest around the school inch by inch, questioning any creature we could find on our path. Nobody… Nobody dared to try and stop us. The teachers never asked questions and didn't even bother to try to collect our works, despite the fact that it was our last year before graduation. Our Headmaster, Dumbledore… decided to stop asking us to go on missions, and James' father, the Head of the Auror department at the time, did everything in his power to find you…. Of course nobody ever succeeded."

"From that fateful day on, everything went worse. James'… James' p-parents, who had been so kind and.. welcoming to a-all of us… They d-died a few days a-after our graduation. James was a wreck and so was I. It didn't help the fact that Lily, James fiancée, was pregnant and bloody terrified that something similar to what had happened to you could take her baby away from her. "

"Your father… your father became more and more distant, Cassie. He… he couldn't accept your loss, he thought it was his fault."

"No! But that's.."

"Unreasonable? Irrational? Untrue? Of course it was, Cassie. But he is your father. He loved you more than anything…. When you came into lives you brought a light and a warmth… nothing… n-nothing could replace. "

Sirius looked at the girl straight in the eye, his expression full of grief and despair. He didn't look different from the hysterical man in the pictures in Diagon Alley. Cassandra scooted closer to him, her own eyes bright with unshed tears she just refused to let fall.

"I'm sorry… so sorry…" She whispered, hoping to convey all her sorrow and guilt in that short word.

Without thinking, the animagus lifted his hands to cup her bruised cheek, gently tracing the scar –now patch-free- with his thumb.

"Never, never say that word again, Cassandra. Never, do you hear me? You w-were a _child._ A-an i-innocent, k-kind b-baby. And _we_ …lost you. _We _l-let you dis..disappear. You paid the highest price, you… paid for every possible crime you could commit in the future. Sorry… is not your word to say".

Cassandra still looked at him with watery green eyes, the guilt not disappeared from her expression. Unconsciously she leaned to the gentle touch of the man in front of her, finding herself wishing to be closer to him. It was a strange feeling, quite disturbing, actually, considering that she had spent thirteen years utterly alone. She could sense that similar thoughts were passing through Sirius' mind too. After all, he had been in a cell for more than a decade, probably isolated from the rest of the prisoners. He needed human touch more than her.

However, she wasn't ready to scoot closer. Nor was him ready to accept her. They were like hungry, lone wolves who had just been offered a piece of meat by a gentle human being. They wanted to reach the hand of the man and eat the food, but they just _couldn't_.

They both needed time. In the meantime, Cassandra was perfectly pleased by the light touch of Sirius' rough hands on her cheek, and Sirius was happy to see her leaning to the touch and placing her left hand on his. Gently she removed his hand from her face and held it close, placing it on her lap and drawing complicated patterns on its palm with her thumb.

Breathing heavily, Cassandra asked:

"What… what happened to my father?"

"He didn't stop looking for you. _Never_. Not even after James' and Lily's son's birth. He was able to disappear for days or weeks without telling anything to anybody. We… we knew that sometimes Dumbledore sent him away to spy on certain groups of… people, but most of the time not even the Headmaster knew what was going on with him. I tried to help him, Cassie. I really did. I searched for you everywhere within the wizarding word. But for him it wasn't enough. Hell, it _wasn't _ enough, but, with James and Lily busy with little Harry, what else could I do?"

Noticing the despair in his tone, Cassandra gently caressed the arm which was still in her lap, tracing with her index finger the thick network of white scars that covered his skin.

She wasn't stupid. She could imagine what happened.

"You… you started thinking he was the traitor, didn't you?"

There was no blame in her voice, although that was clearly a rhetoric question. She understood the pain her father may have felt was immense, but he should have known that his behaviour would have been interpreted as a proof of his betrayal. It was a war, after all. It sounded horrible and heartless, but he really should have simply given up on her, for his own good.

"Yes… I… wasn't sure, because I knew he was probably just busy trying to cope with the pain of your loss, but the others… There was this guy, _Peter Pettigrew_", Sirius spat that name like if it was poison, making Cassandra flinch slightly and tighten her grip on his arm, "he… He was… We _thought _he was a friend of us. He was… he was clumsy, and fairly stupid. We… we had to help him with homework every single time, because he wasn't able to do _anything _with his wand. Hell, even _you_ managed to understand complicated spells and potions better than _him!"_

With every word, Sirius' tone rose and rose, until he was almost shouting. At some point of his speech he rose abruptly from the bed, pacing the tiny room like a caged animal.

Cassandra didn't remember that Pettigrew lad, but she could guess one thing: he was the reason why Sirius Black was skinny and covered in old dirty pieces of cloth. And that was enough for her to feel ad enraged as the man in front of her.

"It was for his incredible stupidity and ignorance that everybody trusted him. _Poor Peter, he would never hurt a fly!_ The bastard. He started insinuating that Remus was the spy. Nothing too explicit, just a hint here and there… in the end he managed to convince _everybody. _Everybody! Even… even m-me."

"How could I have believed the rat?! How could I have been so dumb, so _blind_?! Remus was my best friend. Until that fateful day of April I trusted him with my own life! But I guess that war does that to people. It destroys your soul until your unable to see the truth. You see what you want to see… And in that period Remus wasn't there. This isn't a way to try to make up an excuse… It's just the truth. Remus was away, maybe on a mission for Dumbledore, maybe searching for you somewhere else… I don't know. The fact was that he disappeared when we most needed him. And that played a great part in my decision to trust _Pettigrew."_

"Months passed. A prophecy was made about Harry, James and Lily's son. _My g-godson. _I know that it may sound unbelievable for you, and trust me, Divination is usually a joke of a discipline. But that prophecy was authentic, and, most importantly, Voldemort knew about it. I don't.. I don't know what exactly the prophecy said. I only know that, according to it, little Harry was destined to cause Voldemort's demise or something like that… you… you probably imagine how that monster took it".

"He.. he k-killed a _baby_?!"

Cassandra knew she shouldn't have sounded so shocked. After all, she had witnessed the horrors of a war. But the thought that a baby could be killed for a stupid thing like the babbling of a "Seer"… it was horrible. Absurd.

Not to mention the fact that that baby boy… _Harry_… He was the son of James and Lily. Lily, that girl who had comforted her when her Dad wasn't there…

_"Lily! Lily I felt him!"_

_Cassandra lays her dark blond head against the redhead's stomach, squealing in delight as a tiny kick bumps against her cheek. The older girl chuckles lightly, caressing her small baby bump with her hand._

_"It likes you, see? Oh, uhm, Cassie?"_

_"Mmmh?"_

_"Why do you keep telling everybody that the little one here is a boy? You know that it could be a girl, right?"_

_Cassandra frowns, looking up at Lily with an adorably serious face._

_"But Lily… He can't be a girl! He has to be a boy! So he will be my baby brother!"_

_"What's the matter my dearest doves?"_

_Cassie's head turns around immediately and the girl grins madly at the sight of a tall boy with hazel, bespectacled eyes and ruffled, jet-black hair._

_"Prongs!"_

_With that the girl all but jumps towards the young man open arms, being immediately lifted and whipped around._

_Cassandra likes Prongs a lot. Not as much as Padfoot, that's obvious. But Prongs is good enough. Moreover, he has made her future baby brother._

_Prongs starts talking softly with Lily, still holding Cassie in his arms. The little child stops listening when the couple mentions Peter._

_Cassandra doesn't like Peter. He's stupid and smells. She knows she shouldn't judge people by their intelligence or scent, Dad always tells her so. But Peter is… Peter. A rat. A smelly, stupid rat. And she doesn't like rats. They are… untrustworthy._

"Cassandra?"

The ex-soldier shook out of her reverie with a gasp, lifting her head to find Sirius looking at her with concern clear in his eyes.

"Oh. Uhm… nothing, I just, sort of… Dozed off for a minute. Nothing serious, really… So… what… what were you saying?"

Still looking worried, the animagus resumed his story.

"…As I was saying… Voldemort wanted to…to kill Harry, and he tried. Many times. After a while Dumbledore decided it was time for L-lily and J-james to go… to go into hiding."

Cassandra could sense that the story was rapidly reaching an end. And she had the terrible feeling she wouldn't like it.

"There was… there was this complicated spell the… the F-Fidelius Charm. Using this spell you can design a person you trust as a Secret Keeper. That person will be the only one apart from you to know where you live. Of course, the point of the spell is that in this way, your location will be unknown to whoever wants to harm you, since the Secret Keeper is meant to keep that information, well.. secret."

"We decided that this, among with other forms of protection, would have been p-perfect to keep little Harry s-safe. In front of Dumbledore we decided that I would have been the Secret Keeper. But then… just a couple of days before casting the spell… I… God, how could I be so stupid!"

Cassandra followed Sirius' pacing for a while before it dawned on her.

_Rats are untrustworthy._

_Peter is a rat._

_He started insinuating Remus was the spy._

_Poor Peter, he would never hurt a fly!_

Oh, God.

"You decided to swap Secret Keeper without telling anyone. You told James and Lily to choose Pettigrew instead of you. He was the spy."

Cassandra's tone was cold, monotonous. She didn't look at Sirius in the eye. She kept her gaze lost in the distance, trying to understand _why. _

"Why? Why would have Peter made a better job than you in keeping the secret? What made you think that?"

Again, no blame could be found in her voice. Just interest.

Sirius scrubbed his face tiredly with his hands and shook his head, clearing his thoughts.

"I… I was the obvious choice. You don't remember it, Cassie but J-james… he… he is… he _was_ my brother in all but blood. Everybody… everybody knew that. _Pettigrew,_ instead… He wasn't as close as I was to James, but… I thought…. I thought he could be as trustworthy as I was! Choosing him in secret… Everybody… Everbody would have l-looked for _m-me ._ I thought… I thought he cared for James.. for L-lily… for _Harry_ at least"

Suddenly Sirius' legs started shaking uncontrollably and soon enough the escaped convict's knees buckled. Cassandra made to reach and help him up, but there was something in his blank expression that told her to stay still and listen to the rest of the story, although she could easily imagine its end.

"But he didn't. Of course he didn't, _ he is a rat for God's Sake! _He was the spy. He told… he told e-everything to Voldemort. O-on the 31st of October 1978 I went to Pettigrew's home. I wanted to see if he was alright, but… but when I arrived… nobody was there. I-initially I thought he had been kidnapped by Death E-eaters but… there were no… no signs of f-fight. It was then that I understood. _How could I have been so stupid?! HOW?! The evidences were there, in front of me…_ God, what have I done…"

_A young Sirius Black lands with his flying motorbike in the middle of a quiet street, surrounded by the darkness of the night. He has dark circles under his eyes and his skin is pale and strained. His heart is beating so fast that the sound of its contractions can almost be heard from the villages nearby. The young man is shaking uncontrollably and almost jumps from the motorbike, not even turning off the engine._

_Sirius Black runs. He runs as he had never done before. _

_There is a house at the end of the street._

_He shouldn't be able to see it._

_Nobody should._

_But it's there, and it's in ruins._

_James._

_Lily._

_Harry._

_His family._

_No._

_Nononononono…_

_The sky is dark, but he can still see it. The Dark Mark._

_Over the house nobody should see._

_Floating and saying out loud what Sirius could never even think._

_Death._

_In the house nobody should see._

_Sirius' legs refuse to run anymore. They don't want to enter that house. They don't want their owner to see what's inside._

_But Sirius goes on. Trembling like a scared child, muttering under his breath like a madman_

_"James, Lily,Harry. Nonononono…"_

_The front door of the house is open. Blasted._

_Sirius bolts inside, without looking down._

_He stumbles over something. The Carpet? Please, please let it be the carpet. _

_But it's not._

_It's James._

_Glasses askew, hair ruffled as usual._

_He is sleeping._

_"Hey, J-james, wake up man… You gave me quite a fright"_

_Sirius crawls towards his best friend, his brother. Why is he sleeping on the floor? He has to get up, Death Eaters could come back in an instant._

_"Come on Prongs, there's no time to lose…"_

_Sirius' tone becomes more urgent, desperate as he keeps shaking James' body._

_Why doesn't he wake up?_

_He is so cold…_

_He is so pale…_

_His eyes…_

_Hazel eyes…_

_Dull with death, bright with tears.._

_"No, James, you have to get up.. Come on, Jamie… JAMES POTTER WAKE THE FUCK UP! _

_WAKE _

_UP_

_Please…_

_PLEASE JAMES"_

_Sirius Black sobs. Sirius Black shakes. Sirius Black screams._

_But there's nothing he can do._

_James Potter is dead._

_So Sirius Black can only cry. His best friend cold and limp in his arms._

_Sirius Black is crying, but he's not the only one._

_Someone is wailing._

_Upstairs. _

_In a crib._

_Little Harry._

_Alive._

_Sirius Black doesn't ask when, or where or why._

_He just runs._

_The crib is destroyed. Lily…_

_Lily too._

_Her beautiful auburn hair…_

_Sprawled on the floor like a pool of blood._

_Her wonderful emerald eyes._

_Once so bright. Once so kind._

_Now they are so dead… frozen in a permanent expression of fear._

_They are so dead._

_But yet, alive._

_Harry._

_Little Prongslet._

_He's crying._

_He wants his parents._

_He has Sirius now._

_Sirius gently picks up the baby, burying his face in the jet-black, ruffled locks._

_"Pa'foo.."_

_Through the tears, despite the pain, Sirius Black smiles._

_…._

_….._

_Sirius is not in a house anymore. He is in a street. A broad street crowded with muggles._

_And Peter Pettigrew._

_"HOW COULD YOU DO THAT, SIRIUS? LILY AND JAMES… THEY WERE OUR FRIENDS! HOW COULD YOU BETRAY THEM!?"_

_Those words, coming out from that mouth._

_They are like fuel on fire._

_They burn and make the anger rise and rise._

_Anger, but also Guilt, Regret and Sadness._

_Sirius rises his wand. He is going to kill Pettigrew._

_He opens his mouth to cast that unforgivable spell, he wants to say those two words, he needs to kill the rat._

_But he can't. Not because of an immediate epiphany. Not because of Dumbledore's words about love and forgiveness._

_He can't because Pettigrew has already cast a spell with a wand hidden behind his back. _

_The rat is silent, nobody hears the spell leaving his filthy mouth._

_They only see Sirius holding a wand with a furious expression on his face. _

_Then chaos explodes._

_Dust is everywhere, people are screaming, begging for help._

_The alarms of the car go off, but Sirius can't hear them._

_He is too busy clutching his ears with his hands, his eardrum damaged by the sudden explosion._

_He forces his grey eyes open, fighting the burning sensation of the particles of smoke invading his corneas._

_Where is the traitor?_

_He stumbles forward, trying to walk straight, fighting the dizziness which is rapidly overwhelming his battered mind._

_He sniffs the air, trying to catch the cheesy smell of the rat. _

_The dust scratches his lungs, but it's worth it, because he finds him._

_Peter Pettigrew._

_A chubby young man with watery eyes and a greasy smile._

_He his watching Sirius. He waves at him, giggling like a madman._

_The rat._

_The traitor._

_Sirius has to reach him… But, for the second time in eighteen years, Peter is quicker._

_He draws out his wand._

_A waterfall of blood hits the ground._

_And Pettigrew is gone, replaced by a rat and an amputated finger._

_Pettigrew is gone._

_Sirius Black is screwed, and laughs._

_Laughs until a fresh wave of tears cover his cheeks._

_Laughs until his knees buckle and he falls on the floor._

_Laughs until his old friend Kingsley and his Mentor Mad-Eye drag him to Azkaban, without a trial, without a legal questioning._

_Only disgust and despise._

_Alone._

_Again._

_Forever._

Cassandra was crying

James and Lily, the 50% of her family, were dead.

And she'd never had the possibility to say goodbye.

But that wasn't the reason why she was crying.

She had loved James and Lily, but Sirius…

Together with her father, Sirius was her world.

And now he was kneeling in the middle of the room, broken and catatonic after having shared with her his worst memories.

He was mumbling something, but Cassandra didn't catch it until she crouched in front of him.

"Sorry… Sorry sorry sorry…."

Trying to suppress her angry tears, Cassandra decided that, for a couple of hours, she could throw her weariness in the bin and accept some human contact. So she hugged the broken man in front of her, delicately, almost reverently. She hugged Sirius and let him cling onto her, burying her face in his hair.

She cried. She cried all the tears she didn't let fall in the past thirteen years.

He didn't cry. He didn't have any more tears.

So he simply stayed there, wrapped in a scent of Christmas and family, listening to a sweet hoarse voice.

"We'll find him, Sirius. We'll find the rat. Together. And you'll be free, and the family reunited. We'll meet Dad, and why not? Maybe even Harry. And we'll find a house, a huge house lost somewhere in the forest. And we'll be happy. Because we have suffered enough. We _deserve _some peace"

His answer was a single, short word: "Sorry".

Through the tears, Cassandra led the broken man to her bed and snuggled beside him, listening to his heartbeat and letting him wrap his arms around her.

In the darkness, just when the mumbling finally stopped and Sirius' breath became slow and regular, Cassandra whispered:

"You paid for any possible crime you could commit in the future. Sorry is not your word to say".

* * *

**Here is the translation of the lines in latin:**

**I swear by Apollo, the healer, Asclepius, Hygiea, and Panacea, and I take to witness all the gods, all the goddesses, to keep according to my ability and my judgment, the following Oath and agreement:**

**(...)**

**I will prescribe regimens for the good of my patients according to my ability and my judgment and never do harm to anyone.**

**I will give no deadly medicine to any one if asked, nor suggest any such counsel; (...)**

**But I will preserve the purity of my life and my arts.**

**(...)**

**In every house where I come I will enter only for the good of my patients, keeping myself far from all intentional ill-doing and all seduction and especially from the pleasures of love with women or men, be they free or slaves.**

**(...)**

**If I keep this oath faithfully, may I enjoy my life and practise my art, respected by all humanity and in all times; but if I swerve from it or violate it, may the reverse be my life.**


	9. Kid A

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyone!**

**FINALLY! ANSWERS!**

**As you may have guessed, this chapter will give the explanations you were all waiting for, especially regarding Cassandra's origins. The lines you'll find in this chapter are A REAL spell, written in ancient German. It is the second spell of the Merseburg incantations.****  
**

**A special thank you goes to Theta-McBride, who reviewed the previous chapter, and to all those readers who started following this story! **

**Regarding reviews and comments... I have a question for you. I have noticed that many people read this story, but almost nobody writes a comment. Why? As I always tell you, I love reviews. Good and bad ones. So please, please, tell me what you think about the plot, the characters, everything. Do you think the story is too slow? Tell me. Do you think my characters are not realistic enough? Tell me! Do you love them? Tell me! **

**Seriously guys... Originally I had decided to write a sequel to this story, but if I don't get enough reviews in the future, I may just end this story with the first volume. I am only sorry for all the people who supported me so far...**

**Changing subject, I'd like to talk you about an idea that has haunted me for a while... Would you be interested if I drew the illustrations of this story? It would be an immense work, but I've already tried sketching something and the results are not bad. If you like the idea, please write me about the scenes you'd like to see most, I am at your service! I will publish my works on an account on Deviant Art :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

When Cassandra woke up the sky was a kaleidoscope of dimmed, ethereal colours.

The clouds were dark violet, almost black, and floated lazily over an army of blue, blurry buildings. Where the city stopped and the horizon began, however, an explosion of yellow, orange and pink was winning over the darkness, signalling the beginning of the dawn.

Cassandra had never been a lover of the dawn, since it meant the end of the night, the end of peace. Now, however, as she stood at the window of her flat observing the still sleeping streets of London, the girl couldn't help but smile.

The sun was rising, but the night wasn't going to end. Not this time.

She had Sirius now. She had a mission, a hope.

She was going to find her father.

Cassandra shifted her gaze from the breathtaking view in front of her, focusing on the sleeping man in her bed.

He was curled up on his left side, just like his canine counterpart. His breath was quiet, but sometimes a small cough still shook his chest, making him twitch and shift, his joints cracking with each movement. Despite the two weeks spent in her home, Sirius still looked ill.

Sighing, Cassandra limped towards the shopping bag which still lied abandoned on the floor beside the camp stove. She couldn't do much for the animagus' weight, only time could have healed his malnutrition. His joints, on the other hand, were inflamed and needed to be treated, and Cassandra knew the perfect remedy for sore junctures: hot salt. It was cheap and highly effective, and didn't hurt the least, since the burning material was usually poured into an old pillowcase. Knowing that Sirius wouldn't sleep much more she put a frying pan on the stove and filled it with sea salt.

Satisfied with her work, the girl made her way towards the shower, her mind lost in the blur of fascinating books and scary hooded figures. The bathroom was completely dark, but Cassandra didn't care: she had a very good eyesight, especially in the darkness, and that was one of the reasons why she was usually chosen for the night shifts back at the base camp.

_Maybe this is one of my magical powers. Maybe I am a sort of blonde catwoman!_

Thinking happily about all the cool things she could do with magic, the ex soldier slowly set free her long hair, passing her fingers through the locks in order to dissolve any possible knot.

After having turned on the shower, Cassandra took off her blouse, shivering slightly in the coolness of the morning.

As she bent down to slid the skirt off her legs, a soft ripping sound echoed in the room as one of the cuts on her back reopened.

_Shit. Not again…_

She had tried everything. EVERYTHING. Bandages, rosemary compresses, various kinds of sutures… Nothing could stop the wounds to open over and over again. It was getting frustrating. Not to mention the fact that the skin surrounding the cuts was swollen and inflamed.

_Those are not normal scars…_

Those were not scars at all.

Deciding to ask Sirius about that mysterious sentence later, Cassandra wrapped her prosthesis in a special waterproof bandage and stepped into the shower, relaxing immediately as hot water massaged her muscles.

Closing her eyes, the girl could pretend for a couple of minutes that her life had been only a nightmare and that her body hadn't been the punching ball of an angry wolf.

As water dripped over her closed eyelids, Cassandra could pretend that she wasn't living in a tiny unfurnished flat but in a cozy cottage in the middle of the forest.

Lifting her hands to feel better the gentle caress of that blissful heat, Cassandra could pretend that her father was there, in a large, bright kitchen, preparing breakfast and chatting happily with Sirius.

But after a while, the dream had to stop. She couldn't spend too much time in the shower, Sirius would need hot water too. She had to get ready. She had to remove the salt from the pan and prepare a decent breakfast. She even had to think about what to cook for lunch. Usually she didn't eat anything, but Sirius needed to fatten up. Pizza? Too fat for him, he would probably throw up. She still had some pasta left from the week before… Maybe she could cook it with the canned lentils she had bought the day before…

Lost in her thoughts she dried up and wrapped her hair in a towel, putting on a pair of knickers and a tank top open on the back. The shorts she had picked up for the day were still in the box, so she limped softly to the other room, where Sirius was still sleeping.

It was when she crouched on the floor that she felt a pair of grey eyes staring at her back. Maybe Sirius thought that she would scream and hit him with something, because the sensation quickly vanished. However, Cassandra wasn't embarrassed or shocked. She was a female soldier, after all: it took much more than that to disturb her. She calmly went on with her rummaging in the carton boxes around her, waiting for the man behind her to speak up.

"Interesting tatoo, that on your back…"

Cassandra arched a brow, mildly surprised by his calm behaviour. She had expected him to stammer an excuse and wait for her to find a subject of conversation. It was a great improvement. Maybe the little chat of the previous evening had helped him to release some of the tension and pain and relax a bit.

"Oh, that… It was a little present for my thirteenth birthday. I won this dancing competition in Liverpool and I had some spare money, so I decided that a little treat was in order… I've always loved wolves, so the subject of the tatoo was obvious. When my… my ex guardian found out I had a huge wolf tattooed on my back.. Woah… You should have seen his face!"

Finally having found the black shorts she was looking for, the girl turned around to look at an half-asleep Sirius Black sitting on her bed.

"Why ex-guardian?"

_Shit. You really did have to let it slip, uh? Idiot, Cassandra. _

"Ehr… Because he is not my guardian anymore."

Sirius looked at her with an arched brow, the expression "are you fucking kidding me?" clearly evident on his face.

"Who?"

"Who what?"

"Cassandra…"

"Alright, alright… His name is Colonel Robert Wilkins, 45 years old, an esteemed member of the British Army and one of the dullest people I've ever met. He took me in because his wife wanted to adopt a little girl … Then she got tired of me and flew off with her personal trainer. A bit cliché, isn't it? Anyway, I was left with the Colonel, who pointedly ignored me, apart on public occasions, until my twelfth birthday. On that day he found out that I had been offered a scholarship to attend university. And I was only twelve! He got sooo angry… Long story short, I attended University to become a doctor… For the British Army, which he oh-so-kindly forced me to join!"

Plastering a clearly fake smile on her lips, Cassandra pointedly ignored Sirius's darkening expression and poured the salt into four pillowcases.

"Here, put them on your knees and shoulders… it will help with your joints. What I was saying? Oh, the Army. Yeah, the Colonel sort of threw me into a raging war going on in Eastern Europe when I was fifteen… I had an accident with a pretty angry wolf –because _of course_ I manage to end up into a battlefield infested by wolves-, I lost my leg and wasn't the pretty blondie a jerk of the Army had _agreed_ to marry, so here I am, disowned and flat broke."

The bitterness in her voice rose and rose, until she was practically spitting venom with each word.

She had never told her story to anyone.

She had never trusted anyone enough to tell them about her life.

She had never considered herself so important to deserve somebody to talk to.

She had never considered herself strong enough to be able to remember the last thirteen years of her life without breaking down.

And now, looking into Sirius' piercing grey eyes, she realised that… that she had just made it.

She had told everything.

In a very short and twisted way, but still.

And it hurt.

It hurt like hell.

On his part, Sirius was staring at her blankly. He knew she had had to fight, both literally and metaphorically. However, this didn't mean that her words couldn't make him feel incredibly guilty and angry.

More than angry.

Furious.

He wanted to find that Wilkins and kill him, tearing him apart limb by limb.

Probably, if Harry had been in front of him instead of the green-eyed girl, he wouldn't have managed to calm down and stay in the tiny apartment.

But Cassandra wasn't Harry. She wasn't his Cub.

She was Remus' Cub.

It was Remus' duty to avenge her, and Sirius, despite his strength, recklessness and independence, knew better than stealing the sweet pleasure of revenge from his Alpha.

Moreover, Cassandra was in pain. She may have been able to put on a careless mask, but her eyes looked like a forest in late autumn. The trees were losing their leaves, and soon they would be dead.

She was looking at him. Waiting for him to have some kind of reaction.

In that moment, Sirius understood that was a test.

If you care, show it. If you care, find a way to make me feel less lonely and empty.

He wasn't going to fail that test.

So he laughed. A dark, low, dangerous laugh.

He got up, still chuckling and came to stand right in front of the now completely dumbfounded ex-soldier.

He leaned closer, so that his mouth was a couple of inches away from her right ear, and whispered huskily:

"That Muggle decided to mess up with the wrong people, Cassie. Wait until we tell your father… oh, the fun we'll have with him…"

Cassandra was shocked. She had expected anger, or more probably, indifference. But _this._ She didn't even know how to define it!

Her father was going to avenge her. Sirius was going to avenge her.

She had always dreamt of this. The thought of the Colonel smug expression being replaced by one of fear, of terror…

Oh, it was so _sweet._

At the same time, however, Cassandra felt horrible. She wasn't a monster. She was a doctor. She shouldn't go round and enjoy other people's pain.

And, from Sirius' tone, she knew that Colonel Wilkins wasn't simply going to endure a lecture about parenting.

_He deserves this._

Her instinct was talking again, muffling the outraged screeching of her conscience.

Yes, he deserved to feel at least a small percentage of the pain she had to bear every day.

Just as to help her accepting the idea of revenge, Sirius' fresh scent wrapped around her, making her close her eyes and tilt her head slightly towards the man's face.

She knew she would feel guilty. But she needed revenge.

She could accept Wilkins' pain. She could _enjoy _it.

But there was one thing she couldn't even think of: her family being hurt.

And revenge could endanger her family.

So she opened her eyes and locked her gaze with Sirius'.

"If this revenge thing goes wrong and you get killed, I'll retrieve you personally from Hell just to kill you again. Have I made myself clear?"

Sirius' irises burned of a warm, white fire.

"As clear as crystal, my dear".

The leaves in Cassandra's eyes stopped falling. Slowly, a mischievous grin spread on her face.

"Good. Now, Mr. Black. How about you sit down and put those pillowcase on your shoulder and knees? I'd prefer not tho have wasted two boxes of sea salt, you know.

Grumbling something about freaking annoying teenage prodigies, Sirius complied, watching as she prepared breakfast.

"What will these things do to me, again?"

Not even bothering to look up, Cassandra huffed.

"They will help your joints to stop cracking and, I suppose, hurting. Clearly, they are a bit inflamed."

Cassandra hesitated, frowning and biting her lower lip. She wanted to know about that Azkaban place, but she was afraid of hearing the answer. They had just gone past two pretty nasty subjects… Maybe it was better to take it easy for a while.

She heated up some water for Sirius' tea and milk for her in silence, thinking frantically about what she could say that could keep the atmosphere in the room quiet enough.

"So… A doctor, uh? Is it a sort of… Muggle healer, right?"

Cassandra lifted an eyebrow, surprised both by the fact that he had been the one to start a conversation _again_ and that he didn't know what a doctor was. Handing him the cup of tea and a box of cookies, the girl sat next to him on the bed.

"Really? You've never been to a doctor?"

"I went to a healer. You know, herbs, horrible tasting potions and wands… I think I read about doctors in my Muggle studies book, but I've never seen one".

Cassandra snorted in her milk, highly amused by the tone of pure interest and wonder he had. It was fair, though: she didn't know anything about the wizarding world, after all.

"Well… Here I am! A real muggle doctor. You can take pictures if you want."

This time it was Sirius' time to snort and chuckle.

He had a beautiful laugh. Deep and reassuring.

She definitely needed to make him laugh more often.

"Do you like being a doctor?"

"Of course".

She looked as Sirius silently ate a biscuit, apparently lost in his thoughts.

"Why?"

That was a tricky question. Why. Nobody, not even the nicest professors had ever asked her why a twelve-year-old girl should wish to face pain and illness on a daily basis, enduring the exhausting effort of spending nights and nights in the hospital corridors.

Cassandra munched her cereals silently for a while, trying to gather her thoughts.

"You know, when you are twelve and you are alone, you have to find something to do. Someone could start drinking alcohol, going to parties and taking drugs… I studied. Everything. I spent hours in the library, grabbing any kind of book I could reach without having to ask for help. History, Mathematics, novels… I used notions and numbers as a safety blanket. That was the main reason I was able to get my high school diploma so early, I guess. Then I had to decide what to do. I was only twelve. Most of the people don't know what to do with their life at forty, and I had to take such a decision at twelve! It didn't help that the Colonel… well, you know. I didn't have high morals and aspirations. I was a kid. Medicine… was the most difficult subject I could think of. I had already read mots of the anatomy and phisyology books available in the library, and they were so… complicated. I loved them. So I choose medicine. Like that. To keep my mind busy. Note that while I was studying medicine I also had to attend military training, so… The passion was there, but it was the same passion I felt when I danced or read a novel. I think the desire to help the others came afterwards. When I went fighting, when I saw the first children lying dead at the corner of the streets… That war wasn't mine, you see. It wasn't in another country, and it was difficult to understand which side was the good one and which wasn't. So I built my personal battle. Against death. It was a way to make up to all the sufferings I caused every time we were attacked and I had to kill to survive, I guess…"

Sirius studied her, frowning and tilting his head. There was something in her words. It reminded him of something, but it was probably a good memory… God, it was so difficult to remember.

Suddenly, something in his poor brain clicked.

Oh.

"Your father… he wanted to become a healer too, you know? Apparently it runs in the family".

He smirked as she smiled the brightest of the smiles. Oh, her eyes… It was like spring had brought sun and life to her irises!

"Really?! That's cool! Do you think he did it? I mean, it would be amazing if he could teach me something.. w-when we'll meet him, I mean. You… you still want to bring me to him, right?"

Cassandra stuffed her mouth with cereals, trying to hide her embarrassment. She hated to appear insecure, it was a hundred times worse than walking half-naked in front of Sirius Black.

"Pfft… Do you really think I would change my mind about something like _this _?! As I said, Remus is family. Really. He and .. J-James… They were like brothers to me. In the summer of our fifth year we all went to live to James' parents, who treated me and your father as their own children. If it hadn't been for the war… That would've been the most perfect summer ever."

"Fifth year… It means that you were fifteen? So I…"

"Oh, yes, you came with us, of course. Aunt Dorea, James' mother, _loved _you. If we did something bad, like going a bit too far with a prank, she would ground us for days… You, on the other hand. God, you were only two, but it was clear that you'd have been the leader of the next generations of Marauders! You were able to cause mischief wherever you went! However, differently from us, you had the advantage of being incredibly cute and angelic… Dorea simply didn't have the heart to punish you."

"Hey! I'm not _cute_!"

"Oh, believe me, darling, you were extremely cute. And you still are. Well, maybe not when you look at me like that…"

Sirius and Cassandra went on and on talking and laughing about everything and nothing. Cassandra learned more about the wizarding world and its characteristics, as well as her father and his most famous deeds. She finally came to understand what "Marauders" meant, although she still had the feeling that Sirius was hiding something about that. Truth be told, the girl was increasingly confused: why did her Dad have to go and live with James' parents? Didn't he have a family? And why did Sirius ignore her question about her Dad being a healer?

She wanted explainations. But maybe it was too soon.

Lunch came, and dinner after that.

It was then that it happened.

Cassandra was laughing about Sirius' deep interest in the mechanism behind the functioning of stethoscope – he had been walking around the room for almost an hour, trying to auscultate books and walls. She was laughing and trying to explain him that thing worked only with living beings… And she forgot about her leg. No, scratch that. She forgot about her _missing_ leg.

She wanted to make some chamomile tea, since that evening was particularly chilly despite the season.

So she got up.

And forgot to grab the crutch.

One step.

Two steps.

And it came.

The pain.

Sharp, but at the same time dull, as if her thigh had given up transmitting information to her brain. Normally Cassandra wouldn't have said anything, she was used to that, after all. This time, however, the pain really caught her by surprise, so the girl couldn't help but hiss in pain, stumbling forward and grabbing her right knee.

Sirius immediately ran by her side, supporting her by the waist and keeping her from falling.

He didn't ask her what was wrong. He had witnessed the reopening of her wounds far too many times for his own good. Ignoring Cassandra's protests, the man gently led her back to the bed. Swatting her hands away, Sirius fumbled with the strings of the prosthesis he now knew pretty well, finally managing to remove it and unwrap the already blood-stained bandages from her thigh.

It was bad.

Really bad.

The skin was so fragile that a couple of steps had managed to reopen the wound completely.

Blood was rapidly trickling down the wound, soaking both the blankets of the bed and Sirius' hands and battered clothes.

Sirius didn't feel sick as the first time he had came to face Cassandra's condition. This time he could help.

Before the girl could tell him to grab the First Aid box, the animagus covered the wounds with his hands, making the girl hiss in pain and squirm uncomfortably. He didn't let go, grabbing the stump more forcefully and fixing his gaze on the ripped flesh.

Cassandra didn't know what to do. He was hurting her. She wanted to push him away, make the pain stop, but he was too strong.

He kept studying the wound with a frown, his eyes oblivious to the world around him.

It was a high risk, considering his current physical condition. But she needed this.

Sirius' pale skin became, if possible, even paler and a light sheen of sweat covered his forehead as he started hissing something under his breath.

If Cassandra had paid attention, she could have understood that those words were nothing but an ancient healing spell.

_Phol ende uuodan _

_uuorun zi holza. _

_du uuart demo balderes uolon _

_sin uuoz birenkit. _

_thu biguol en Sinhtgunt, _

_sunna era suister; _

_thu biguol en friia, _

_uolla era suister; _

_thu biguol en uuodan, _

_so he uuola conda: _

_sose benrenki, _

_sose bluotrenki, _

_sose lidirenki:_

_ ben zi bena,_

_bluot zi bluoda,_

_lid zi geliden,_

_sose gelimida sin.*_

He repeated those lines over and over again, not bothering to breath, not bothering to blink.

He wasn't used to wandless magic. Not anymore. Sirius' body soon started fighting against the flow of magic that was leaving his hands: his limbs were shaking visibly and the dinner threatened to be forcefully expelled by his stomach.

But he couldn't stop.

It had worked so many times.

It was the only way.

In the meantime, Cassandra had stopped flinching and squirming. She still felt uncomfortable and scared, but what Sirius was doing…

It was _magic._

Slowly, the blood stopped leaking from the wound.

Cassandra shivered as coldness invaded her veins and arteries, paralyzing the twitching muscles and soothing the inflammation.

_ben zi bena,_

_bluot zi bluoda,_

_lid zi geliden,_

_sose gelimida sin._

Bones to bones.

Blood to blood.

Joints to joints

So may they be reunited.

Coldness was replaced by a comfortable, warm feeling. Muscles relaxed, blood returned home.

Cassandra looked fascinated as the edges of the wound slowly began to melt together.

Finally.

A scar.

It looked fragile and not completely formed, but still.

"How did you…"

But the girl couldn't end her sentence, because as soon as the wound finished healing, Sirius hastily got up from the floor and ran to the bathroom.

Cassandra found him bent over the toilet, violently emptying his stomach.

"Hey…"

The girl hopped towards him, slowly crouching on the floor. She sat there in silence for a while, trying to calm the man down by rubbing small circles on his back.

When he finally stopped retching and slumped on the floor, exhausted, the ex-soldier scooted closer to him, placing a hand on his forehead.

He wasn't burning. Actually, Sirius' skin was colder than ice.

"Sirius… what… how did…"

"It… It is an… a-ancient... h-healing spell… r-really powerful.. p-perfect for cursed w-wounds. We… I… used it on your f-father a c-couple of times…"

Suddenly, Sirius' eyes fluttered closed and the man slumped further, almost collapsing on Cassandra. The girl frantically shook him, desperately trying to wake him up.

"Sirius. Sirius, come on wake up! What the hell have you done to yourself?! God, your pulse… Nononono, Sirius, Padfoot, you have to wake up! Please…"

His heartbeat.

She couldn't hear it.

She couldn't feel it.

_Two-year-old Cassandra is playing on the lawn of a wonderful garden._

_It is a beautiful sunny day, and the light reflects on the calm water of a swimming pool._

_Her Dad is in the water, he is playing with Peter. Cassandra cannot see him because the light is too bright, but she can hear him laughing._

_Prongs is in the water too, but he comes out of the pool, a happy smile gracing his lips. He grabs a towel and tries to dry up his hair a bit, only managing to ruffle it further. He looks funny, and Cassandra giggles happily._

_A middle-aged, beautiful woman catches her attention. She is twirling her wand in the air, making little bright fairies appear and dance around the baby._

_Cassandra giggles and tries to catch the fairies, her ice-green eyes filled with joy and surprise._

_Prongs runs towards them, dripping water, and launches himself to the baby girl, tickling her mercilessly._

_Cassandra can hear the woman scolding Prongs, but she doesn't want hin to stop. She is having a lot of fun._

_Something rings in the distance. _

_A new heartbeat. It is slow and feeble, but she could recognize it everywhere._

_If possible, her smile becomes even brighter._

_"Pa'foot!"_

_James looks down at her, looking confused._

_Why is he confused?_

_Cassandra turns to the woman… What's her name?_

_"Do'ea? Pa'foot!"_

_Dorea looks at Cassandra, frowning, apparently lost in thought._

_Why is everybody so shocked? It's Padfoot!_

_The bell rings again, this time a bit more forcefully._

_Prongs speaks to Dorea. But Cassandra doesn't pay attention._

_Why is the heartbeat so feeble?_

_She sniffs the air, but there are too many scents, too many people._

_There is mint and lemon… and something else… but her Dad's scent is stronger. It covers everything._

_The smile disappears from Cassandra's face._

_Thump._

_Thump._

_…_

_Prongs goes inside a bright, huge house. Finally, he is going to open the door._

_Cassandra wants to follow him and gets up from the grass, only to fall back again. She tries again, and this time she manages to maintain the balance._

_Someone comes behind her and picks her up. Somebody wet._

_Dad._

_He isn't laughing anymore. He walks quickly, carrying her inside._

_Thump._

_…_

_Thump._

_Cassandra hears him. Padfoot. He is talking to James, but his voice isn't booming and happy as usual._

_Cassandra is worried. Why is Padfoot so strange?_

_Her father arrives at the entrance door. _

_She sees him._

_"Pa'foot!"_

_The baby leans forward, she wants to hug him._

_He looks up and smiles at her._

_But it's not a bright smile._

_Cassandra looks at him, her big eyes filled with worry._

_Thump._

_He takes a step forward, walking towards her. _

_…._

_He looks at her, but his eyes are glazed. He tries to keep walking, but he falls._

_He falls._

_"Pa'foot?"_

_…_

_Prongs shouts something and runs toward Padfoot._

_Padfoot is still there, lying on the floor._

_…._

_Dad puts her down, he has to call for help._

_"Pa'foot…"_

_The heartbeat is gone._

"NO! PADFOOT! SAY SOMETHING… COME ON!"

Cassandra wasn't two anymore.

But seeing Sirius like that, lying on the floor, completely still, his warmth slowly fading in the coldness of the bathroom…

Not a sound coming from his mouth.

How could it be possible? They were talking and laughing…

For an instant, Cassandra felt panick freezing her own heart.

Sirius…

No.

He wasn't dying.

She wasn't two anymore.

_Useless…_

NO.

She WASN'T useless.

She was a doctor.

And a freaking good one too.

Sirius' heart wasn't beating anymore. So? It was a simple cardiac arrest, probably caused by exhaustion.

She had faced worse cases.

A cardiac massage.

She could do it.

And she did it.

_Prongs is shouting and trying to wake Padfoot up._

_But Cassandra knows he is not going to wake up._

_She has been in this situation before. Useless, sat on the ground watching life leaving the body of another human being._

_Dad knows too. She can feel his own fear._

She did it over and over again, catalyzing all her frustrations and fears in that simple yet fundamental movement.

One.

Two.

Three.

_Dorea runs towards the unconscious body of the dark-haired wizard._

_Cassandra is crying. But she doesn't sob. She knows adults get angry when she makes noise._

_The older woman points her wand towards Sirius' chest._

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

Fifty-eight.

Fifty-nine.

Sixty.

No pulse.

No.

One.

Two.

Three.

_Sirius' back arches sharply, but his eyes are still closed. And his heartbeat is still gone._

_Cassandra feels strong arms wrapping around her._

_Dad. He is sad. He is losing his brother._

_Fifty-eight._

_Fifty-nine…_

Sixty.

_One._

Two.

_Three._

And then, just as darkness seemed to have swallowed that wonderful sound…

_Thump._

_Cassandra's eyes shot open and she quickly makes her way out of her father's embrace._

_"Pa'foot?"_

Thump.

Thump.

Thu-tump.

"Padfoot…"

Cassandra slumped against the wall, panting heavily and closing her eyes.

_Thu-tump._

_Thu-tump._

_Cassandra studies Sirius' face. He is white, blue and purple. _

_He opens his eyes._

Sirius looked around confused for a couple of seconds before fixing his gaze on Cassandra.

_He tries to get up from the floor, but his arms are too weak, and Dorea forces him down again._

_James leaves the room, but Cassandra doesn't pay him much attention._

_It's like the Christmas incident all over again._

_But this time, Sirius doesn't try to smile despite the pain. His gaze is unfocused, his limbs are trembling. _

_Dorea tries to catch his attention placing a hand on his bruised cheek._

_He tries to crawl backwards, failing miserably. His face is a mask of terror._

Sirius blinked slowly a few times. He gulped soundly and licked his chapped lips.

Cassandra looked at him, confused and worried.

"Sirius… You are in my bathroom. You tried to cast a s-spell on my leg and your heart stopped… Do you remember? I am Cassandra, Sirius. I won't do any harm…"

_Sirius looks at Dorea for a couple of minutes. _

_He is lost. He doesn't trust her. She is an adult. Adults have always hurt him._

_Cassandra understands him. But Dorea is a good person. She is her new grandmother, at least that is what Dad tells her._

_Cassandra wants to reassure him, but she's too young. _

_But Dad can._

_He walks in front of her and crouches next to Sirius._

_Cassandra stares at her father's back, observing his scar-covered skin. She has already seen those scars, but he always tells her they are not the same as his._

_Dad is talking. His voice is deep and reassuring. _

Sirius nodded slowly, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place.

With a great effort, and a bit of help from Cassandra's part, the man managed to sit up, leaning his back against the cold wall.

_Sirius looks tiredly at Dorea. He murmurs something._

_Sorry._

_Dorea wraps her arms around him, placing her chin on the top of his head and letting him cling onto her like a scared little monkey. _

But Cassandra didn't.

She was not a mother. She was not an adult, despite her efforts.

She had already comforted him the night before.

Now she was scared. Terrified.

She needed answers. And comfort.

Sirius understood that. It was another test.

He held up a trembling hand, inviting her to take it.

She did. She shut the soldier down and let the scared teenage girl run free.

She all but launched herself at Sirius, snuggling closer to hs side and placing her right ear on his chest, just like she had done many years before.

He wrapped his arms around her, his grip weak, but his body warm.

She didn't cry. She just stood there for a while, inhaling deeply the man's scent.

She waited until his heartbeat reached a steady rhythm. She waited until his breath didn't sound strained and ragged anymore. She waited until his limbs stopped trembling.

Than she looked at him closely.

And she hit him. Hard.

"Don't. Ever. Do. This. To. Me. AGAIN."

"Ouch!.. Listen..Hey! I'm sorry…Oi! That hurt!"

"Good. Because you scared the hell out of me! What were you thinking?!"

Sirius looked at her, still massaging the back of his head.

" When… When I first saw you dealing with those wounds… I knew they weren't normal. They are cursed, Cassandra… and I… uh.. know that curse. Very well. Your Dad too. That spell… when I first met you, I knew I was too weak to cast it. Now, though… Believe me when I tell you that what happened tonight isn't the worst of the possible scenarios."

Cassandra looked at him, disbelief painted all over her face.

"You could have died! You _were dying_! If I hadn't been here…"

"A week ago I would have died even _before _starting to cast the spell, Cassandra. If only I had been able to find my wand… But it was necessary. You were slowly bleeding to death. I couldn't… I have just found you…"

The girl lowered her gaze, trying and failing to process what he had just said. After a while she gave up and resumed her position beside Sirius, ignoring that small demon at the back of her head that tried to convince her to stay away from the man.

"Thank you…"

She mumbled those words almost reluctantly. Cassandra Lupin wasn't used to thanking people. It made her feel weak, and nobody had ever given her a reason to be grateful, anyway. This time, however, she couldn't help it. Her leg felt great, and she had just been spared the not-so-great duty of pouring alcohol on an open wound.

Grateful or not, Cassandra Lupin was certainly confused.

"Sirius… I know that you are trying to keep something from me. Maybe you do it to protect me, maybe you think that I don't know enough things about the wizarding world to fully understand… But please, Sirius. I am tired of this. I lived in the dark for thirteen years… Memories are coming back shattered and confused, and I don't think I'll ever be able to remember everything."

Lifting her head from his chest, the girl fixed her gaze on Sirius'.

"Tell me about this curse, Sirius. Tell me why everybody believed my Dad was the traitor. Tell me why his back… his back is scarred like mine. Tell me why he had me when he was only thirteen… Tell me everything. I'd find out anyway".

Sirius took a deep breath. She was right. As usual. It was better to get over with that.

"It's not easy, Cassie. Your father… he didn't want you to know. Eventually you found out, but weren't you so smart… But you're right. You're not a baby anymore."

He closed his eyes, losing himself in the reassuring scent of Christmas and family.

"Cassandra… when you had that incident with the wolf… What happened?"

The girl opened her mouth to explain. But the words wouldn't come out.

She wasn't ready.

"I… I can't. Not… not now. Maybe someday. Not now. Too soon."

She felt his warm hand drawing patterns on her left arm, trying to soothe her.

"Don't worry darling… I don't need to know everything. Just… could you describe the wolf? Was it a normal, grey one?"

She breathed heavily, burying her head even deeper in the animagus' chest.

She had never felt so vulnerable before.

" I… I couldn't see its fur. It was too dark. B-but it was huge… I shouldn't have been afraid. They had warned us. That place was infested by wolves… They came at night, when everybody was sleeping or patrolling far away. Nobody had ever survived their attack, before me, of course…"

Cassandra's mind filled with flashes of fangs and claws digging into her flesh, skinning her alive.

"His teeth were terrifying. They were so sharp, so big….And his eyes. They were bright, yellow… hungry."

"… It was huge. Never seen such a big animal in all my life.. He wasn't a normal wolf. After… After what happened I… Tried to convince the other doctors and soldiers, but they didn't belive me."

Sirius closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Moony was going to kill him.

" I belive you."

The girl whipped her head so quickly that the bones of her neck cracked soundly.

"Really? You do? I knew it! It was a monster, wasn't it ? One of your magical creatures…"

The animagus smiled slightly, amused by her sudden interest and curiosity.

"In fact it was. Cassandra… Do you know what… what a werewolf is?"

"Of course. It.. Wait."

Slowly, the girl sat up straight, so that she could look Sirius in the eye.

Her face was a mixture of curiosity, confusion, and a tiny bit of fear.

"You… you are trying to tell me that…"

"That the creature that attacked you that night was a werewolf. Yep."

Cassandra felt her jaw hit the floor.

"A… A werewolf? B-but.. How? I haven't… It didn't… Am I?.."

The girl ranted nonsensically for a couple of minutes, her brain too shocked to think straight.

Sirius, however, seemed to understand what she meant.

"I know this sounds confusing. Even muggles know the effects of a werewolf bite, and it's pretty obvious that you don't show the typical symptoms of lycanthropy. The fact is, Cassie, that you are immune, although not completely. You won't turn into an angry werewolf once a month, but you'll have other… wolfish characteristics."

Cassandra narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, trying desperately to think. After a while, she did the only thing that seemed to make some sense: she analysed the disease.

"So… you are telling me that lycanthropy is like a sort of infection. Or a virus. Yeah, it looks more like a virus, although I should check this statement in a laboratory. Basically, on a… Full moon? Yeah, on a full moon a man turns into a gigantic wolf that goes around eating people alive. If a human gets bitten the.. saliva, I suppose, although it could be another sort of fluid generated by a gland… Anyway, the saliva enters the victim's system and modifies the DNA of the host, causing the lycanthropy. Now, did you knew I was immune before we met or did you just guessed it when you saw me?"

Sirius looked at her, , turning into a Muggle scientific-monster was her form of coping.

"Ehr… Yes, I already knew you were immune. Actually, I had been informed of the fact since you came into our lives".

Cassandra nodded slowly, her doctor side still working full-force.

"Is this a test healers do to every newborn child? Immunity to lycanthropy, I mean… In the muggle world babies are usually tested for some genetic mutations just after birth in order to help parents treating the disease."

The animagus took a deep breath and passed a hand through his matted hair. Here they were. The truth. The tragic, shocking truth.

"No, Cassie… We knew because… because you were born on.. uh…_ peculiar _circumstances."

He waited for her to say something, to interrupt him.

But she didn't.

"You see… you… You were not… ehr… conceived in the, well… conventional way…"

Cassandra wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Sirius… Is it really necessary to talk about _this_? You know, it's not the kind of story about my father I would like to hear…"

Smiling somewhat sadly, Sirius continued.

"Believe, me, Cassandra… It's important. As I was saying, the circumstances of your birth were peculiar. Actually, I don't know much about what happened, since Remus never wanted to talk about this. Basically, when your father was thirteen Voldemort and his followers had just begun taunting people and magical creatures. The bastard hated everything which wasn't human, but he also knew that some of the most dangerous beings could be extremely useful…"

Cassandra's eyes widened in understanding, and she breathed:

"Werewolves…"

"exactly. In the magical world, werewolves are considered the most vicious and dangerous creatures. They are usually depicted as criminals, killers who have fun biting people even when it's not a full moon, and I'm sorry to say that in most cases this description is quite accurate. However, their behaviour could probably be different if our Minister didn't try to haunt them down and eliminate them. Most werewolves live like beasts because it's their only way to survive. Voldemort knew that, of course, and managed to use the resentment against the inequality of the system to attract werewolves to his side. He managed to convince Fenrir Greyback, a blood-thirsty werewolf who had built a huge pack by infecting and kidnapping children. Greyback was powerful, and he certainly helped Voldemort in spreading fear and destruction in our world… But it wasn't enough. Riddle wanted the werewolves to be stronger, colder, more reliable. So he decided to fabricate his own army. Initially he wanted to force members of Greyback's pack to mate during a full moon, since legends reports that children born by the union of two werewolves during a full are likely to be the most powerful wolves the world has ever seen. The plan failed, of course: werewolves can't be forced into doing anything, let alone mate!

However, Voldemort was a stubborn, stubborn bastard. I don't know what he did, or who he asked to, but eventually he found out an alternative way to obtain the same… effects of a mating process. I don't know exactly why, but this time he couldn't rely on Greyback's pack: he needed lone wolves, children who had been bitten by Greyback but had managed to escape. He found one hundred Lone Wolves. Seventy –five females and twenty-five males. The Death Eaters managed to kidnap them all during the full moon of August 1972. The male werewolves had it easy: they were put in a cage and a huge quantity of blood was taken from them. Then they were set free, because they could have been destructive if they had found out about a Cub being hidden from them. The female werewolves, instead… They were selected carefully, and the ones who weren't considered suitable for the role were slaughtered. Their blood was taken as well, and then they were given a potion that could prevent them from turning back human after the full moon. A group of death Eaters used the blood samples to create a very complicated potion, with the help of a famous Potion Master. Nobody has ever been able to find the ingredients of that potion, ans the Master always refused to spread its secrets. The important thing is that it worked: all the female wolves became pregnant and gave birth to their Cubs in the April of 1973. "

Sirius took a deep breath and lowered his gaze, trying not to look at Cassandra's face.

She probably had already understood the point of this introduction, but she didn't even tried to interrupt him. Her silence was scary.

"Cassandra… Your father is a werewolf. A Lone Wolf. He was bitten by Greyback when he was four, but Lyall Lupin, your grandfather, managed to take him away from the bastard's pack before it was too late. He had to live isolated from the rest of the world, surrounded only by books and trees. You see, werewolves aren't allowed to go to Hogwarst… The Ministry thinks that they would be too dangerous… Dumbledore, however… He decided to make an exception. He allowed Remus to attend school, of course _forgetting_ to tell the students about your father's condition. As you know we were in the same House and we immediately became friends… Despite his efforts, James and I eventually managed to discover his secret. Initially he was terrified, he thought we were going to report him to the Ministry or something. But we would never, ever have done a thing like that. Remus was our friend, a smart, funny, wonderful person. His "furry little problem" would have never changed that. In fact, we became obsessed with werewolves, reading all the books we could find about them, and asking Rem thousands of questions. We found out that sometimes werewolves isolated from their pack, but, they couldn't survive alone for a long time. Remus and his parents knew this. He knew that and accepted that. He accepted _death,_ Cassie. I shouldn't tell you that, but it is important. He was a child, not even a teenager yet, and he wanted to die. He hated the wolf. His parents had taught him to despise that part of him, to treat it like a handicap.

With us… he… changed. We managed to make him see that life could be great even as a werewolf. We became Animagi to help him during the full moon, and slowly, the wolf accepted us and Remus accepted the wolf. We became his Pack, he became Moony, our Alpha. We were the Marauders, together we could do everything. When the school term was over, though.. We were alone. Vulnerable. That August… Rem was the first one to be kidnapped, despite the wards that surrounded Lupins' cottage.

They found him a week later, lost in the woods, disoriented and amnesic. He didn't know what had happened to him, nor did the wolf. After a while we forgot about it. We didn't know you existed, Cassie. If we had we would have certainly took you away from those monsters. But we didn't, and Moony didn't know your scent, so he couldn't recognize you. We don't know exactly where did you live during the first two years of your life. We only know that you were mistreated and starved. You didn't have a name, you were known as the Kid A, because you had been the first Cub to be born alive from that experiment. You were a… disappointment to them, because you never showed any sign of lycanthropy, apart from a powerful eyesight and earing and an incredible agility and strength. You never transformed, despite the fact that your blood is technically 100% werewolf. You were just a normal child, you didn't even produced accidental magic once.

Soon enough it became clear that even the other babies were not werewolves. Voldemort was furious. Two years after your birth, it was decided that the experiment had been a failure and that every _proof_ had to be destroyed. You were… you were let free in the woods during a full moon. It was then that your father heard you for the first time. You were calling him. Moony went berserk. He half destroyed the Shack he was usually confined into. Luckily enough James had his wand that night and used it to break the wards that prevented the wolf to exit Hogwarst territory.

Rem never told us what happened that night, the point is that the next morning he marched into the Hospital wing covered in blood, mud and other body fluids, with a dangerous smirk on his face and an equally dirty baby girl cradled in his arms. The school nurse visited you and came to the conclusion that you were immune to lycanthropy, although you showed many wolfish characteristics. As I said before, you are incredibly agile and strong. Your senses are empowered, and you can infect a person with lycanthropy. You can't touch silver and you… you have the logic of the Pack. You see Remus not only as your father, but also as your Alpha. James and I were betas, so you saw us as brothers or uncles. Lily… she wasn't part of the Pack, not before she started dating James. After their first kiss she became the only female component of the Pack apart from you, and you started seeing her as your mother. Pettigrew… He wasn't a beta. Moony didn't like him much, although Remus tried to ignore this aspect of the wolf. You… you hated him. Really. I guess it was your instinct…"

Sirius trailed off, finally lifting his gaze to observe Cassandra's reaction.

She was frozen.

Her eyes were wide and bright, her mouth half-open in surprise. And horror.

Sirius tried to reach and caress her arm soothingly, nut she flinched away.

She blinked, and Sirius could have sworn he had seen a hint of yellow in those beautiful green orbs.

She got up from the floor quickly, managing to keep balance despite the absence of the prosthesis.

"Take a shower. Stay away for a while. I need to think."

Her tone was clipped, dangerously controlled. She was going to lose her temper soon, that was a fact.

"Cassie.."

"I SAID STAY. AWAY. FROM. ME!"

Sirius stopped and stared. He had never seen Cassandra angry. Not even when she was a baby. Now, though… she was furious, although the animagus couldn't exactly understand who was the object of her fury.

Breathing heavily, the girl stood in front of him for a couple of seconds before storming out of the bathroom with a single hop.

Sirius looked at the door and winced as the girl closed it with a bang.

Yes. Moony was definitely going to kill him.


End file.
